


Weaknesses

by skerb



Series: Postcards From Waterfall [7]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Apologies, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Forgiveness, Healing, Innuendo, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Power Dynamics, Sick Character, Sickfic, Teasing, Time Skips, accidental soul touching, sansby - Freeform, unorthodox fireplace rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skerb/pseuds/skerb
Summary: Sans goes to Grillby’s to apologise and make sure he’s ok. Grillby appears to be out of it. Sans comes to a gut wrenching realisation.(CH 55-63 - GRILLBY'S ILLNESS)
Relationships: Grillby/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Postcards From Waterfall [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089182
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Things had settled; Papyrus had been agitated over wasting an ‘entire day’ to napping, to which Sans only shrugged. He felt weary, his magic still protesting and burning out in a radius from his soul, but otherwise ok. He figured this was just how it was going to be if he pushed himself. As long as he didn’t require medical attention, he assumed it would be alright.

He was remiss to leave Papyrus to himself, but the talk they had ironed out any peculiarities his brother had about going out. Sans seemed hesitant if only because he was still so exhausted. But he could move and he could eat on his own, so Papyrus didn’t belabour it as much.

Grillby’s was closed by the time Sans made his way over; he was sure he was expecting it, but it didn’t stop him from being disappointed over the fact. The heat-discoloured note tacked to the door fluttered in the breeze, familiar orange coal scrawled across its surface.

_‘Closed until further notice.’_

It was likely Grillby didn’t want to offend or alert anyone that he hadn’t been feeling well, so Sans sighed. He couldn’t just exploit the gridline to warp inside again due to still feeling unwell himself, so he texted the bartender instead.

hot stuff (Last message sent: 2:39pm):

*hey u in  
*says ur closed  
*u up 2 chat?  
…  
*maybe ur sleepin ill catch u later if u wanna

Sans really wasn’t sure what to do with himself after that. Undyne had again been advised that he hadn’t been feeling well, and while he appreciated the time off, he was starting to get restless. His last pay had been rather small and he’d been shirking attending to bills and such lately. He had a comfortable sum in reserves just in case, but he didn’t want Papyrus to find out. He’d have to travel to the Capital again to manage some financial things, which he wasn’t looking forward to.

He sighed heavily and leaned against the door to Grillby’s. Maybe he should do a split shift and call Undyne to tell her it wasn’t that bad. Or perhaps text Alphys; it seemed like he owed her for her help more than ever lately.

He wandered around town aimlessly, settling into a kind of half-doze as the sounds of the townsfolk washed over him. A part of his mind remained alert for the duration of his stroll, keenly zeroing in on the feeling of being watched from afar. He built his magic around his bones to make them denser, just _waiting_ for something to lash out at him.

But nobody came. Just the odd feeling that someone was watching - which honestly a fair few were, but only in passing and only within the friendly camaraderie that came with such a sleepy town.

Eventually Sans found himself wandering out into the forest, then across the puzzles. While it was cold, it didn’t bring its usual chill. He made his way down the path leading to the Ruins. He wondered if the woman was there and leaned against the heavy doors, giving it a sharp rap with his fingers.

No answer.

He figured not, considering how sporadic their chats had been. He’d actually wanted to let her know how it all panned out and maybe even thank her, but he supposed that it would have to wait until some other time. He kept his eye lights trained on the doors for a moment, a quiet concern growing.

Their child had gotten Up again. It was strange, yet he couldn’t very well say it was impossible. Unheard of, perhaps - maybe there were others and the concept was so foreign that people just didn’t talk about it? Nah, that didn’t seem right. He would’ve _definitely_ heard something like that. Sans hummed to himself and tried knocking again. Still no answer. He decided to leave it at that and slowly retraced his steps.

The rest of the day was spent puttering around, checking on beaten-down paths for anything strange. Nothing stood out, apart that Grillby’s was still closed by the time he decided to head back for the rest of the day.

The next day, Sans attempted to text the fire monster again to see if he was awake and about. It was mid-afternoon and still his favourite hangout and the home to one of his favourite people was closed. It seemed pretty late for the bartender to still be sleeping. Maybe he was just busy with clerical stuff, cleaning up since he’d dropped everything to come search for him? Maybe assessing inventory?

Sans felt a little guilty for that. And he’d been dragged all over with Papyrus, his brother had sheepily revealed that little detail at breakfast. Of _course_ he’d be bushed from searching through Waterfall and then all over Snowdin Forest; it was no wonder the guy had passed out right on top of him.

Sans slouched at his station, having opted for a split shift despite Papyrus’ protests. He still felt weary but had made a half-hearted attempt to remain awake throughout the duration of his shift. It was a six hour stint today and only two of those hours had been forfeited to a nap. The odd sensation of being watched gradually dissipated over the course of the previous day and while he was on the defensive still, he wasn’t as wound up.

Slipping into another half-doze, the skeleton jerked from his pensive mood when his phone buzzed in his pocket, revealing a few delayed messages.

hot stuff (Last message sent: 4:58pm);

\- I apologise.  
\- I would have seen these earlier, but I was sleeping.

*wow r u ok?  
*thats sum tucker out tiem if i ever heard of it  
*u musta needed it  
*cant lie i took sur+ zs 2

\- I’m relieved to find you’ve been taking it easy as well. I needed an extended rest but I do believe that I’ve managed to recuperate at least somewhat.

*thats good  
*u busy  
*n i mean r u up 2 ne company  
*im just @work watchin snow fall  
*so im almost dun  
*r u openin 2nite?

\- I decided to keep closed for another day. Some things need attending to.  
\- If you want to visit and chat, I won’t deny you. I’m a tad sluggish, however.

*bud u n me both im practicly part of the slime fam

\- That certainly makes for delightful imagery… slimy bones? Well. You may use the Fire Exit and come up when you are finished. You have some residual fire, correct?

*what slimy  
*did my bro tell u that  
…  
*nvm  
*r u askin if im toasty  
*sry thats 100% yes always ty kinda chilly out atm  
*but im not freezin up so thats sumthin i guess  
*im wearin ur shirt so i think theres sum fire in here sumwhere  
*no willowisps so idk whos a stowaway

\- Glad to hear it! I still don’t understand cold but I suppose you’ll teach me.

*heh yea i will

Smirking to himself, after his shift Sans wandered back to Snowdin. It took a little less time to get back than coming out, and he soon found himself very inconspicuously rounding Grillby’s restaurant to use the back entrance. He took great care to make sure no one saw him and grinned to himself as he made his way inside through the fire exit, the bones of his fingers tingling when they met with the door handle. He certainly felt at ease within the toasty walls.

At least, he would be, if the toastiness had been there. He thought it odd, a coiling of uncertainty twisting around his soul as he slunk through behind the bar counter. Sans’ grin dropped a little as he tried not to think much of it as he had during his previous break-in and headed through the kitchen, well familiarised with the layout as though it was his own home. Dare he say it, he close to lived there entirely now.

At the top of the stairs, it was easy to see which room the fire monster was in due to the ambient flicker, however faint that it was. Instead of in the bedroom like he suspected, the bartender was in a room down the hall that branched off to the right into an open living area. Shelves cradled one side covered in soot-lined rows, thick tomes, metal hinged boxes and utensils, glassware and shakers. They were piled in one area and a few boxes were on the floor that appeared to be in the middle of being unpacked.

The area was sparse yet there was a homey aura, everything touched by the fire monster was lightly charred or was wrought with old iron for protection. Colours didn’t pop out that weren’t red or orange, as dyes made with roots or lichens simply burned away in the other’s presence. Had he a mind for it, Sans would have assumed that was the case on his visit to check on Grillby when he had been recuperating after their first date.

After lingering in the doorway and staring at the lit fireplace for a moment, his eye lights settled on Grillby. He was lounging in a worn brown chair, feet propped on an equally worn ottoman in a lacklustre slouch, still in his pyjamas. He appeared to be bathing in the warmth the magical fire in the hearth provided, although the reason _why_ escaped the skeleton. When Sans approached him, he made a low whistling noise and a few crisp embers popped from Grillby’s head with a start.

“heya,” the skeleton murmured as he leaned against the cushioned chair. “how’re you feelin’?”

 _“If I may be entirely truthful, I don’t think I’ve actually fully recovered,”_ the fire monster replied as he removed his glasses and rubbed over his face.

Sans’ grin fell as he pushed himself away from the chair and moved to view the monster directly. His flames still appeared as dim as two evenings ago and Grillby looked for lack of a better term, _exhausted._

“buddy…” Sans could barely repress his disappointment. “you sick?”

Grillby replaced his glasses and appeared to squint at him in confusion. _“What?”_

“you’re sick,” the skeleton grimaced guiltily. “how the hell does a fire monster get sick?”

 _“You appear to favour that word,”_ Grillby muttered, letting one of his feet drop from the stool to the floor.

“maybe.”

Grillby smirked to himself and rolled his head to the side to regard the skeleton, who wasn’t much more than a nervous grey and blue blur. Sans sighed and leaned in as though to gauge how dire the supposed illness was. A twist was caught in his magic, but otherwise Grillby stared at him with a bit of confusion at his sudden closeness.

“how do i help? what happened?” The fact that Grillby might’ve fallen ill due to his search wasn’t lost on Sans and he felt apprehensive alongside the needling guilt. There appeared to be a lot of that lately.

The fire monster laughed quietly. _“It’ll pass. I am… flattered you care enough to demand as though it was someone else’s fault, however,”_ he reminded the other kindly with a shrug. _“You wanted to talk?”_

“man, are you ok to?” the skeleton couldn’t shake the apprehension, not even a little bit. He was still hovering close, trying to pick out ways that his friend was out of sorts. His fire appeared to cut off into strange twists, subtly changing the wisps of flames that rolled off from his body. The flames were low, their intensity faint. Sans felt afraid, nervously squeezing the armrest at the other’s left side as he tried to hide how he truly felt. “not gonna lie, i’m kinda worried.”

Grillby scoffed playfully, reaching over to briefly pat Sans’ hand. _“Shows you care. That you lov-”_

Sans’ eye lights flicked in a sidelong glance and his grin widened bashfully, even the hint at the word ‘love’ sending his soul to pulsing warmly in excitement. He grinned a little more when he saw Grillby’s flames peak higher and flush gold, however brief that it was.

The skeleton shrugged his opposing shoulder, unable to keep himself from zeroing in on the word. It stole into his thoughts, making him go back to the quaint slip up and the resulting call the fire monster had made.

And the spoken reciprocation.

He felt flush and pulled at one side of his hoodie, trapped in place. His soul flickered and he rubbed over his sternum distractedly, attempting to hide what was blatantly obvious.

“heh… guess so,” he offered lamely, trying to keep himself from grinning like a fool with the admission.

The fire monster breathed a long sizzling sigh as he watched, unable to keep his eyes off the interesting display. He let his fingers trail over the other’s lower arm to his hand. Despite how out of sorts he was, Grillby still appreciated the flustered way Sans reacted to his teases.

The skeleton tugged at his hood again, unable to meet the other’s eyes. “man.” He chuckled to himself.

 _“I meant it,”_ the fire monster said quietly, his grin broadening when the other flushed with a start, then shifted his weight from one foot to the other self-consciously.

“me too, heh.”

 _“Shy.”_ Grillby laughed softly, curling his fingers around the skeleton’s briefly before reaching to cup the other’s skull.

Sans sighed with the introduction of soft heat against his face, subtly leaning against the hand on his right side with a soft, embarrassed hum. When the other’s thumb grazed the expanse of his cheekbone, Sans closed his eye sockets at the tender touch, feeling warm, cherished.

He basked in it, his soul tittering in nervous little flips in his rib cage.

_“…I…”_

Sans opened his sockets again to regard the other; Grillby’s tone was hesitant and shifting towards sounding _remorseful._ Concerned, Sans clasped his hand over the one on his face and watched intensely. The other really didn’t look like he was feeling well and Sans felt his soul clench despite knowing that illnesses were generally very brief.

Still, he wasn’t sure. The elation he felt at the other’s admission abruptly changed to apprehension, a clingy, spiralling feeling that opened up a storm of worry in his thoughts.

“if you need anything from hotland, i’m goin’ that way later,” he offered lamely, his grin tugging artificially with the little lie. He could make the trip. He’d find a way, and Sans was willing to put up the extra effort to get whatever medicine or foods the fire monster needed to feel better. Since his magic was low and his healing capabilities were extremely limited, it was the least that Sans could offer.

Instead, the fire monster gently shook his head, his thumb still stroking over the ridge of his cheekbone. The barest touch turned a little firmer and Sans felt the heat seep into his skull with a soft sigh, eye lights still searching for any hints as to the other’s thoughts.

But Grillby hid them well. While he was worried about Sans’ instability, he couldn’t just go on and say it, could he? He couldn’t treat him any differently, but there was a stark contrast between when they had visited the sunset and now. Things that had changed subtly and drastically at the same time. Sans’ health turning for the worst, his magic becoming both chaotic and fettered, strong yet uncertain.

His soul seized with the thought; Sans was likely pretending. As always. Playing a stronger game to spare him. Grillby’s flames went low and shifted darkly, causing Sans to grab his arm in alarm.

“hey, you ok?”

Grillby remained quiet, his soul shuddering at his core, but he nodded. _“…I… compromised you.”_

Sans’ body relaxed a little and the fire monster couldn’t help but be endeared by that, how the skeleton was holding onto his arm, how the magic in his sockets kindled brighter, trained on him expectantly. Grillby offered a pitiful smile, idly stroking at the other’s cheekbone.

_“I hadn’t even realised…”_

The skeleton stared at him, confused, then laughed suddenly when he realised what Grillby had likely meant. “me an’ papyrus get like that sometimes. it’s cool, man,” he shifted a bit awkwardly as he spoke, eye lights still settled on him as though to pick out any tiny detail.

Grillby swallowed hard, attempting to push down what he felt was a pile of snakes twisting in his stomach. _“The… Barrier effects, I meant,”_ he admitted softly.

It seemed to dawn on Sans what was bothering him, at least. The skeleton inhaled sharply, then he grinned and gave the other’s arm a light smack in mock admonishment.

“you were sleepin’ when that was debunked, but ok,” Sans snickered, giving him a wink despite the brief worry in his heart. He watched as Grillby’s flames rosened and then rolled off of his visage in paler flecks, obviously perplexed. “you passed out the night we got back. my bro was, eh,” here the skeleton shrugged a little mildly for emphasis, “alphys assured him that the barrier doesn’t work that way. and it doesn’t, trust me.”

Grillby stared at him for a time, his internal temperature plummeting slightly in shock. He couldn’t keep his eyes off him as he drank in the other’s body language, how his shoulders were slack, how his hands were steady and holding onto his hand and arm. He swayed from time to time, nothing new, but he was certain that the skeleton was still fatigued. Still pushing himself.

“honest,” Sans said after a moment, his grin wry. “nothin’ you did or where i went with you is what’s wrong with me.”

That should have been something to consider, yet Grillby couldn’t help but think there was more to it. Frustrated, the fire monster leaned up with a lot of effort and pulled Sans down. The other grunted in surprise and was unbalanced by the tug, half-landing in the other’s lap. He soon found himself in the other’s arms, pressed against the constant heat of his body as the fire monster exhaled a shuddering breath.

“jeez,” he muttered against the side of Grillby’s head and the other dipped his face into his shoulder with a vague crackle. Sans moved his arms to better enfold around the other monster and straddled his lap so he wouldn’t slip. It was easier but not really comfortable, although Sans conceded that the other likely needed reassurance. He decided not to move as he breathed out a quiet sigh. “you weren’t lettin’ that eat away at you, were ya?”

Grillby tilted his head against the other’s skull, his embrace becoming a little closer and tight. He didn’t reply; he didn’t think he needed to. Sans had hit the nail on the head with that one.

The skeleton sank into the hug, giving the other’s shoulder a consoling pat. “at least you’re up-front about it,” he muttered carefully. “honest, i’m ok.”

 _“…Still don’t know why you’ve-”_ Grillby immediately reconsidered what he was going to say. Sans merely grunted against the side of his head, precariously perched on his lap in the comfortable chair.

“out with it, bud.”

The fire monster took a moment to consider his words very carefully. If he said the wrong thing, Sans would be offended, or shrink back to insecurity over his perceived reaction to his base stats. Grillby felt the flutter of nervousness Sans’ soul sang out within such proximity and idly rubbed his back, his muted heat barely sinking into his hoodie.

It was difficult to get it out. No matter how he thought on it, bringing it up would sound so… _unnecessary._ Accusatory. Brash, disgusting. Still, the needling feeling persisted and Sans was starting to feel it. He breathed in deep, the warm air igniting within him and travelling around his body, the oxygen and magic fuelling his perpetual flames before he exhaled the smoky breath.

 _“With… your aggression. Your magic spikes. Your… moods, changes,”_ the other started minutely, his words barely riding out on the wisps of his fire, _“I had no idea. Yet… when your brother inquired, I thought the place special to me had caused you harm. I felt… responsible. Since it all pieced together.”_

Sans shifted in his hold a little, suddenly more uncomfortable. He kept his eye lights trained on the other’s grey shirt, concentrating on the different wafts of heat that pulsed from Grillby’s chest. “imaginin’ things,” he muttered offhandedly. He didn’t need Grillby feeling guilty over the changes he was undergoing, and it _certainly_ had nothing to do with being close to the Barrier.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Grillby pressed him firmly against himself, the sensation sending a reverberating echo of uncertainty yet closeness, seeking out comfort yet wanting to extend a hand to help in turn. The skeleton sighed once more and shifted his gaze up to Grillby’s face, whose eyes were closed, but flames arranged peculiarly, as though expression was too difficult to properly array.

Sans frowned and carefully touched the side of Grillby’s neck, watching the way the flames darted to one side almost _lethargically,_ not displaying any of their previous erratic and excited movements. Concerned, his eye lights followed the small fires as they gently yet timidly seeped back into place along his fingers, ready to scatter again if he moved.

“i think…” he began softly, glancing to the other’s face to make sure that he was paying attention. When Grillby opened his eyes again, Sans continued, “i should probably tell you a few things. mostly about,” Sans shrugged again, his eye lights darting to his right side, “the part where, uh. i had…” He trailed off, and while Grillby looked patient, he still looked concerned and confused. “maybe this isn’t the right moment for a lotta exposition. but, uh. you remember when i told you `bout when i fell, yeah?”

Here was when Grillby nodded, although he remained quiet and something in his eyes shone with a strong worry.

Sans wasn’t about to let him interrupt, nor have him say that he wasn’t owed any information. This was important, especially since it had affected the other’s actions and made him, well, sick. The skeleton leaned off the fire monster, who allowed his arms to drape from his back in a loose hold, staring at him inquisitively.

“when that happened, and i was brought to alphys… eh, don’t read into it too much, ok? i was put into stasis which affected my flux and output,” Sans shrugged noncommittally, the action so second-nature by now that he wasn’t even aware that he did it half the time. “since i was told that it affected, uh… certain features that correlate to various behavioural inclinations.”

Grillby tilted his head, a few dim embers popping off from his exposed form that could’ve been construed as a question. For a moment, Sans thought he heard something buried within the fire, a deep tone that was burnt off, like words but yet not. It whispered for a fraction of a second before he pulled himself from the trance-like state and tore his eye lights away from the centre of Grillby’s chest.

_Was that due to all the biology studies before?_

He was sure he’d heard it, yet not. It was safe to assume that’s what the other was thinking, but it was a strange sensation. Sans chalked it up to the odd kind of familiarity he had around the bartender and shrugged again, idly rubbing a stray flame that had curled against his primary digit on his left hand.

“i didn’t really pay attention to… magi-physiology-type stuff back then,” he admitted quietly. “it kinda gave me an excuse to remain ignorant on the whole, uh… thing. i mean, why bother gettin’ into it when it wouldn’t happen to me, right?” Sans laughed a little more bitterly than he’d intended, “well, turns out my stasis had nothin’ to do with that, and it’s kinda a… an ongoing transition thing.” He hoped it was vague enough that Grillby wouldn’t directly assume what was _actually_ happening and embarrass him by putting words to it. He was loathe to explain the finer details, after all. “an’ it’s sortin’ itself out, kinda. the barrier had nothin’ to do with it. it’s nothin’ to worry about, and you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He saw a flood of relief pour out from the other as though pressure had been building up inside of him. For a moment, Grillby’s flames twisted against his visage and shifted in colour and density, his shoulders went taut and he inclined his head as though in defeat. Sans watched as calmly as he could - yet his soul was doing an acrobatic circus of nervousness and panic at the failure of emotions the fire monster was attempting to express.

“the timing is just a dumb coincidence,” the skeleton added, surprised at the confidence in his tone despite how both numb and electric he felt at Grillby’s relief.

Not really knowing if it was ok or even how the fire monster wanted to be consoled, the skeleton pushed his brow against the other’s head in the same proximity, foreheads touching. As he gently laid his hands over the fire monster’s chest, he felt a gentle pulse through every bone in his fingers and how it lit something inside of him, following every invisible line that connected to his soul, urging him to stay close.

“it’s ok,” he found himself murmuring, from somewhere inside of him Sans felt bolstered, new, despite his exhaustion. He pulled Grillby’s right arm and his hand, laying it against the front of his hoodie. The pulse deepened like an echoing beat and Sans grinned, keeping his sockets closed. He didn’t even remember closing them, but he knew this was ok. He could _feel_ it. “we’re ok.”

Grillby nodded against him, the dull roar of his flames a constant thrum against Sans’ hearing. He huffed, more smoke filling the air and Sans gently patted the other’s shoulder in assurance. When the other’s hand slipped from his sternum, the skeleton watched the other’s visage for a moment before resituating himself a little more comfortably on the other’s lap and encircling his arms around him.

“you ok?” he inquired, voice barely above a whisper.

The fire monster took a moment to register the question before giving in to a clumsy shrug. Sans concentrated on the flames’ odd tingling vibrations, how they stuttered around the words, _“Been better.”_

Sans sunk against him, the parts of his body that touched the fire monster registering it as something a little duller than what he was used to. He thought it peculiar, but if Grillby really was sick, he wasn’t sure how he could help. He also didn’t want verification that his selfishness had caused his friend misery.

And then, due to everything else, Sans knew that he couldn’t stay overnight - tempting as it was.

Sensing the other’s inner turmoil, Grillby pulled his hand from between them and settled it on Sans’ back, giving it a light rub. _“I’ll be alright,”_ as he spoke, a tendril of smoke left the crack of his mouth out of Sans’ sight. _“As much as you are looking out for me… you should rest at home. Your brother is likely to worry after you.”_

The skeleton tensed at that, a brittle laugh escaping him after a moment’s pause and hesitation. “we’re ok. we talked everything out.” After a few minutes of worried silence, Sans placed his hand over Grillby’s chest again, towards the vague colourless glow under his shirt. It flickered briefly as the fire monster released a quiet chuckle. “can get a healer to pop by, if you want,” Sans offered, unsure about the dip in magic.

Grillby shrugged again, gently jostling the other. _“Waterfall… Snowdin… have no healers for me.”_

“haven’t seen you literally this burnt out since…” Sans let the sentence hang when he lifted his head in time to see a dark plume of smoke escape the fire monster. “hey. tell me. is it like a fever or somethin’?”

Grillby’s flames arranged themselves in an utterly confused manner, the brightness of his eyes flickering worryingly. _“...What?”_

Sans thought about that for a moment. Maybe that wasn’t the correct term at all. Fire monsters _loved_ the heat - in fact, he could recall an instance or two during a gig where some Hotland dwellers had broken the central cooling system at MTT Resort. That was long before he had started feeling temperatures, though.

He sighed. “ok. i guess it would be like… too much heat.” He saw the way Grillby’s visage shifted quizzically, as though his brow lofted in skepticism. “bizarre, i know. but i think i get it, at least. usually i can feel the heat off ya pretty intensely, but i can barely feel it through my clothes.” Sans hummed then as though displeased with something, then leaned back and turned his head to regard the fireplace. “i might be puttin’ two and two together.”

Grillby laughed shortly, _“What do you figure, mister science man?”_

Sans turned back in time to see another leak of black smoke, the start of a grin withering almost instantly. “you’re not hot enough. that’s why y’got the fireplace goin’,” he guessed, unsure.

Grillby sighed and rolled his shoulder evasively. _“I tend to forget how perceptive you are. You’re not far from the mark, I suppose,”_ he muttered, every word seething with exhaustion as he shifted in place as though to get more comfortable.

“has it ever been this bad before?” Sans asked, keeping the concern from his voice with a bit of force, “you not producing enough heat, i mean?”

Grillby grunted quietly in affirmation. _“Got caught in a snowstorm, once,”_ he breathed with a subtle shudder at the memory. _“Far worse, that.”_

“oh.” Sans swallowed thickly, the admission not doing much to quell his worry. He looked around the room for a moment, wondering what he could do to… what, exactly? Insulate the fire monster? Wouldn’t that smother him instead?

“uh,” he tried again, unsure what to do. He detangled himself from Grillby’s arms and slid off his lap, taking a moment to look him over. It was only then that Sans realised that the room had filled with a thin layer of smoke and the fire monster had his arms loosely hanging around his middle, as though to conserve heat.

“jeez, man.” Sans huffed out a sigh, the breath almost stung with the smoke as he rubbed at his sternum in thought. “tell me what i can do.”

Grillby shook his head.

Sans grew exasperated but hid it, instead rounding the chair and lifting the other’s legs up. He prayed he had enough strength for this, but he nearly toppled onto the fire monster. The lack of weight threw him off when he attempted to wrap his other arm under Grillby’s shoulders and hoist him up.

 _“…Fine here,”_ Grillby mumbled, although he didn’t move to protest. Vague, golden hues fluttered through the flames of his face and hands from the attention, though.

The skeleton wasn’t sure how to take that, so opted to pat the side of his head, then unzipped his hoodie. The fire in the hearth was doing enough to warm him and he didn’t particularly need it, so he draped it over Grillby’s chest and tucked in the sleeves into the corners of the cushions.

With the other’s quiet chuckle, Sans gave him an awkward grin. “so,” he started, attempting to sound nonchalant and in control, “what do i gotta do to keep a fire goin’?” The yellow tinges of gold and orange appeared briefly alongside Grillby’s wan smirk. “really, man?” Sans sighed incredulously, although his tone held no reproach. “this kinda comes as a shock, by the way. you were fine when you left our house, right?”

The fire monster tilted his head against the back of the chair, eyes looking distant as he idly stroked the fur on Sans’ hoodie. _“…Combustion pressure.”_

Sans stared at him. It hit him. It hit him harder than he thought he had - that Grillby had been pushing his limits during the search. From Papyrus’ explanation, hours in Waterfall. Hours in the outskirts of the forests and the sleepy hamlets far from Snowdin. _Hours_ with a rolling HP counter that started damn near the thousands and declined by the minute. Sans ground his teeth over the building worry and the absolute disgust his actions had wrought.

He had to calm down. This wasn’t what he came here for. Sans ran a hand over his face and exhaled into it to calm his figurative nerves, pinching the space of bone between his eye sockets. The other had done exactly as _he_ was prone to doing, although now he supposed Grillby was paying a steeper price for it.

He leaned over the fire monster and stared into his eyes, sending a silent inquiry into the other’s flames to Check. Grillby’s vision sharpened with the probe, body going tense at the invasion since he hadn’t been expecting it.

> **[ * GRILLBY 44 ATK 3 DEF** ****  
> *** Turn up the heat!** ****  
> *** Smoke means a  
>  ** **dampened flame. ]**

Sans sucked in a breath, his soul constricting with trepidation as he probed deeper.

> **[ * 287 HP ]**

“delta’s flying fuckin’ sentries, grillby!” he gasped, seizing the other by his shoulders, “what the hell! what the _hell!!”_

 _“Overreacting,”_ the fire monster groused with a wince, _“...Been on the incline since I left-”_

“it was _lower!?”_ Sans felt his soul plummet as though it had dropped clear out of the bottom of his rib cage. He didn’t mean to sound so shrill, but everything about this was _wrong._ God, he had screwed up more than he’d thought. And Papyrus - he hadn’t even known? Or was Grillby that good at hiding? Sans’ phalanges dug into the other’s shoulders as he gripped him tightly, pulling him forward with renewed energy.

 _“Overreact-”_ Grillby tried again, but Sans covered his mouth, expression stern with blank sockets. The fire monster stopped when he realised why Sans was upset and avoided his gaze, sinking back into the chair.

There was no excuse for why he hid how bad it was. He really didn’t feel like it would be such a bother. Grillby’s flames dimmed a little more with the chagrin he felt, which only fuelled Sans to become more agitated.

“stay here-” the skeleton said hastily, as though Grillby had the energy to get up and walk around on his own. “i’m gonna… i’m gonna look into some stuff, i-i’ll-”

Grillby seized his arm so Sans couldn’t storm away as he had intended, eyes piercing with unbridled intensity as he pulled the skeletal hand away from his face. He was challenging Sans’ panic, holding him fast despite how exhausted he felt. Sans was staring at him, eye lights returned and searching as Grillby felt him tremble.

The poor skeleton.

It really _was_ nothing.

 _“Am not fond of misdirection. I’ve rested. I’ve eaten. It merely… takes awhile,”_ Grillby sternly revealed after Sans had calmed down a little. He felt the hesitant ethereal probes against his soul every other minute, as his poor friend tried to gain any recourse as to how to help. It was sweet. He really did care, there was no margin of a doubt. _“…Really am alright.”_

Sans was trembling and he hated it. He hated being the one that caused this to happen, even if the other’s health had inclined by four points since the initial Check. He shuffled, bent over the fire monster and his low flames, pinpoints of miserably feeble heat crawling away from his touch. Before he had been curious, but now he felt as though his magic was somehow making things worse in this state.

Grillby tried again, slinging his arm over Sans’ skull and cupping the back of his neck, touching their foreheads together. _“Believe me?”_

Sans swallowed thickly, eye lights still searching, but he gave in to a minute nod. “ok, bu-”

 _“No `but`s,”_ the fire monster sighed, filling the space between them with more black smoke. _“…Perhaps one of my blankets. And… you should rest.”_

Sans stayed where he stood, his eye lights darting around the fires and Grillby’s eyes, as though he couldn’t believe it. His body stayed calm but his mind was a torrent of confusion and hurt at being essentially _dismissed._

 _“Honestly,”_ the fire monster chuckled wryly, patting the other’s face, _“how am I going to rest with you flitting about like a worried chicken?”_

Sans felt his soul drop a little more, hesitation welling up inside of him. He Checked once more and Grillby’s health was just under three-hundred, at least it was on the rise. Considering how it was recovering, the skeleton could only guess that it had been _much_ lower the previous day.

His teeth clenched as that thought came to mind. He nodded at Grillby’s silent inquiry and was rewarded with another affectionate pat to the face. If this was a ruse, the guy could act, Sans thought, trying to keep his bearings.

Before he left, Sans made sure the other was tucked in. He had located a deep burgundy fleece blanket that he covered the fire monster in - figuring it had to be from Hotland, otherwise it would have burned up long ago. Sans decided to leave his hoodie under it, taking a moment to adjust his sleeves so the oversized shirt didn’t hang off of him too much.

Then unceremoniously, Sans hiked Grillby’s legs up onto the arm of the chair and shoved the heavy piece of furniture towards the fireplace so the fire monster was in its direct heat.

 _“…Really going the extra mile,”_ the other observed with a light cough, this time Sans saw the smoke again and paused. As though made awkward by the look, Grillby pulled the hoodie and blanket combination up to his chin with a subtle smirk. _“Thank you.”_

Sans left after watching over him for awhile, his soul thrumming nervously, hanging onto each inhale and exhale as Grillby’s breathing slowed as he approached slumber. He decided to leave, but made sure every window and door was closed before he did so - with such an assault to the fire monster’s health levels, he didn’t want to gamble.

And he realised how hypocritical he was being, feeling his soul lurch when he remembered Grillby treating him the same as always. Concerned, yet kind. He should really take a page out of Grillby’s book, Sans thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it is unclear, 2 days have passed since the search and find for Sans. And in this whole time Grillby has been blaming himself for bringing Sans to the Barrier, since he was asleep when Papyrus was convinced that he was misled. >w>
> 
> Consider how low Grillby's HP would've gotten 2 days ago and tell me Sans shouldn't be worried. ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆) ~~I like Sans' curse hahaha~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans goes back to check on Grillby despite little pinpoints of dread assaulting him throughout the day. Caretaking happens, feelings intensify. Kisses, cuddles... and a mistake.

hot stuff (Last message sent: 11:04am);

*hey g  
*how u feelin 2day

…

*guess ur still sleepin  
*lemme know if u need sumthin

Sans sighed as he sat at his sentry station, restless and worried over the radio silence from Grillby after their parting the previous evening. The fire monster had assured him that he was fine and just needed extended rest, as he recalled. It was all he could do just to sit and wait. In a last ditch effort to ensure that the other was comfortable, Sans had ran back to his house to grab a few snacks and returned, piling them onto a telephone stand that he dragged over beside Grillby’s chair.

But that had been the extent of what he could do. He had been urged to leave. So Sans sat with what felt like a pit in his heart and nervous worried tinglings in his soul. He could barely concentrate. He had to prevent himself from texting his boyfriend over and over despite how it gnawed at him as time dragged on.

He rubbed over his face with one hand as he pulled his sweater closer around him. He’d left his hoodie. Papyrus had balked at that but Sans merely brushed it off as though it was nothing. Things resumed as they had been normally before the entire flower mess had sprung up. The only difference was Papyrus’ adamant daily exuberance of how he was going to be made popular after finding a human.

Not if.

When.

He was still waiting for Papyrus to swallow his pride and own up to his mistakes. He wouldn’t hold his breath, though. Perhaps it had shown a little at breakfast - Papyrus had still seemed a little hesitant and sheepish, but Sans merely shrugged it off. As he always did.

Sans shook his head and tapped his fingertips on the desk of his station, his legs jittering in the cold. He felt better despite his concern over the fire monster. He would be patient. He wouldn’t go out of his way for any overt gestures of consolation when Grillby had told him he was alright.

Yeah.

That wasn’t him.

Growling lowly in frustration, Sans looked at the time again. 11:14am. It was barely into his shift and he still had four hours and forty-six minutes to go.

He turned his screen on and checked to make sure if maybe he missed Grillby’s reply.

He was probably still sleeping.

Sans tried to not let it get to him.

Hours passed in agonising silence. Technically, he was owed a break - at least two, if he was being his usual generous self. At any other time, he would just walk away from his post and say “i’m goin’ to grillby’s” to no one in particular or to Papyrus if he was around - and he’d be on his way. But the knowledge that Grillby’s was closed was wide-spread news in Snowdin and so walking past the other sentries’ stations was somewhat… peculiar.

That was why he chanced to use a shortcut despite how exhausted they ended up making him feel lately. He bypassed the canine unit and made it across the creaking bridge to Snowdin, huffing the entire way. He had to stop pushing himself - yet he didn’t like walking everywhere, either.

Sans looked down at his cell phone again and then stared up at Grillby’s suite above the restaurant like he had so many times before - on evening walks when he couldn’t sleep, or just when he couldn’t stop in.

Wait, when had he not ever made time for Grillby? Sans paused with the thought and the odd pulling sensation it brought on. Something was missing, or perhaps it hadn’t even happened and he was imagining things again. Then, as though blinking out of reverie, he shook his head. That was… weird.

2:34pm. It was quite possibly the longest he’d gone without a break if he didn’t include any naps, and he had saved it to clock out early. That had to be pretty admirable of him, right? He thought so, at least.

The skeleton lingered around the front where the recent weather had torn Grillby’s note on the front door. He attempted to fix the tape so it wouldn’t fly away and noticed another thing that stood out.

He would’ve thought that years of stumbling in and out of the old wooden door would’ve emblazoned every crease and score into his memory, but Sans definitely _didn’t_ remember this particular scent. It was like an old campfire, not the smell of cooking oil, burgers, fries, chili or drinks. Sans felt his soul clench despite him forcefully attempting to remain calm.

Soot shouldn’t have concerned him, but in the restaurant - where Grillby kept things pretty much immaculate - it wasn’t something he’d ever seen before. Forcing his hand to the door latch, he flicked his wrist with a subtle nudge with his magic, hearing a faint _click_ from the lock.

Ok, now he was _definitely_ breaking in. As though it hadn’t just happened, Sans pushed his way inside and covered his nasal cavity through the assault of dense smoke. Despite how it clung to the floors, it made everything hazy and difficult to see. Coughing while he breathed in the mix of decay and spent magic, Sans covered half his face with his sleeve and after re-locking the door, walked at a brisk pace towards the kitchen.

Smoke curled in thick tendrils down from the upstairs suite and Sans waved at the air to disperse it. In fact, he grabbed a handheld fan from beside the oven and gave it a few swings to clear the air so he could see. His soul was thudding harsher and faster with every step up towards the fire monster’s suite.

He heard strained coughing and Sans muffled his mouth further into his sleeve, using his other arm to wave more smoke away.

“...grillbz?” He coughed again.

He heard a groaned answer from down the hall and felt his soul twist in dismay. _Shit._

“hey,” he called out as he rounded the bend in the hall and into the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks and nearly dropped the fan when he saw that Grillby didn’t appear to have moved at all since his previous visit. In fact, he appeared a little dimmer, although whether or not that was due to the lingering smoke was just as unclear as the room. “jeez. what the hell, man,” Sans restrained a cough and tossed the fan as he crossed the room.

Grillby was actually _brighter_ than he’d been the day before, but his flames were shifting and unformed, looking more like globs of dark orange and maroon mist than actual flames. His expression must’ve betrayed him, as the fire monster was glaring at him suddenly.

 _“Don’t tell me…”_ he muttered, sounding sour as he shifted a little under the fleece blanket, _“that I… look quite that bad.”_

Sans gave in to a wry laugh and leaned over the side of the armchair cradling the fire monster’s shoulders. “i was gonna tell you how smoking is bad for your health,” he joked, trying to reign in his emotions when Grillby gave a light chuckle. “what’s goin’ on, g?”

The other shifted as though he was going to try getting up, but Sans quickly settled his hands on his chest to prevent him. Sans flinched when he realised his hands had sunk into the blanket a bit _too much_ and he withdrew, eye lights constricting in thinly-veiled concern.

 _“You’re so kind to visit,”_ the other said nonchalantly, as though his demeanour was perfectly normal and that Sans really had nothing to worry about. He eyed the skeleton a little wearily as he was balked at, staring at the misshapen blanket covering Grillby’s torso.

“wh-” Sans shook his skull to gather his bearings, moving to grab the blanket and hoodie underneath to check. “what just happened?”

Grillby sighed, more black smoke leaking out. _“Burning off moisture.”_ At Sans’ horrified look, the fire monster crackled a little as though to chuckle, attempting to shrug. _“It happens. I… do apologise for the fumes… and lack of light.”_

Sans was trying to speak again, finding Grillby’s torso had leached into a vague shape, half-contained within his nightshirt. His hands were shaking, eye lights tightening with panic that Grillby had witnessed a few times before. He could practically hear the string of questions whirling through Sans’ skull as the other stood stock still with the blanket gripped tightly in his hands.

He sighed again, wishing the smoke wasn’t so worrying. _“Listen very carefully, Sans,”_ the fire monster started. His tone was so matter-a-fact that the skeleton’s eye lights snapped to attention immediately, focusing on Grillby’s visage. _“It doesn’t matter what you believe. It is not your fault. This… tends to happen. On occasion. It is fine. You are aware of how combustion works, correct?”_

Wordlessly, Sans nodded, his eye lights constricting and wavering as he searched over the other’s torso in muted horror, trying to find the correlation between stars and the combustion engines he used to tinker with. Maybe Grillby’s fire acted as the burning residual occupancy and he’d eaten something that made him this way? Or perhaps that meant nothing at all, and the spark just meant that the moisture he had withstood was making it difficult to burn.

He wasn’t sure which theory was more upsetting, if he was honest.

 _“The fire… is a byproduct. It is my body, but they are themselves as much as I am myself. They react with how I am feeling, but they tend to overreact at times,”_ here Grillby shrugged again, this time seemingly with more strength. _“Presented with too much moisture and they… overcompensate. And for whatever that I consume next, the reaction for the fuel is stronger, yet I tend to draw in more moisture from the air. Resulting in… well.”_ Here he offered a bit of a grimace and coughed again. _“Insufficient burning.”_

Sans’ expression shifted and he hung over the other, still hesitant to touch, but gently tapping at the flames that were sputtering on the fire monster’s chest. “how long are you gonna be like this?” he asked quietly, trying to swallow the sound of concern.

 _“Generally, not any more than a few days,”_ the other replied, his tone sour. _“Hate to have the restaurant closed for so long, however… I recall yet another instance when a certain skeleton has broke into my home when I was like this.”_

Sans grunted in agreement, then realised what that meant. He couldn’t help but recall how overboard the two of them had gone and flushed slightly, although he was distinctly aware of the lack of smoke.

He decided to question it, “i know you’re _exhausted,_ but what about the smoke, man.” He shrugged, as though the movement would dissipate the winding unease in the pit of his rib cage.

Grillby’s eyes seemed to dodge the question more than when he’d actually had answered. _“...Had already ceased by the time you arrived,”_ he muttered truthfully.

The skeleton felt his soul do a nervous flip before he carefully allowed the blanket and his hoodie to fall back, unable to stop himself from drinking in whichever peculiarities the fire monster displayed until Grillby sighed in exasperation. He tensed when he saw a reddened hue flutter down the expanse of flames and hide beneath the fur of his hoodie, brightening when the other inhaled. It returned at a stronger intensity, giving Sans a small relief.

 _“They’re excited to see you,”_ the fire monster breathed in amusement, smoke leaking from his mouth on his next exhale. _“Missed you.”_

“well…” Sans scratched at the side of his skull, trying not to stare and so desperately trying not to make the other feel self-conscious about his state. He huffed a quiet sigh, coughing on the end slightly. “i didn’t know, bud. anything i can do, or… i dunno, maybe get for you?” His offer softened the longer he spoke and he grinned awkwardly with Grillby’s vague smirk.

Sans felt a tightness in his soul again when Grillby reached out from the blanket and touched his arm, flames falling from him in languid, lazy drops, as though they weighed a great deal more than lead. He grimaced at the sight while Grillby laughed, giving the skeleton’s arm a reassuring pat. _“Some company would be nice. Heard the phone go off… was that you? It fell sometime during the night and I couldn’t reach,”_ he said lowly as some small flickerings of gold passed against his neck and face. _“I’d… like some parscoal. From the pantry. If it’s not too much trouble.”_

Hesitant to move from Grillby, the skeleton nodded almost absently, a tightness cumulatively building behind his ribs. He was glad for the direction, not knowing what to do otherwise. His first instinct had been to call Alphys, although he wasn’t sure if that was a great idea now or not.

He didn’t know what to do about the smoke. It was like wet fuel had been added to a fire - he knew Grillby hadn’t eaten anything strange while he stayed with them, right? Was it overexposure to the humidity of Waterfall? The snowdrifts in Snowdin forest? All of the above?

Sans clutched at his sternum with renewed determination. He would try. He wouldn’t run away when he was that bad anymore. It wouldn’t make up for how things turned out this time, but he would _try,_ damn it.

He wandered out of the living room, a little lost.

Parscoal…

Where were they… Sans felt a jittery nervousness settle through him as he entered the kitchen. It was _not_ his and Papyrus’ kitchen. Everything had its own space that was starkly different than their own. There was no sink, so no water, which he understood why - but it still threw him off. Pots and pans hung off the wall in neat rows on wire racks and hooks, spices, sacks of vegetables and various wine bottles lined the room. The counters were lined with black granite and there were tins of various Hotland and New Home spices inside of them when he checked.

And the soot. Sans could’ve sworn there was more of it now than the previous time he had stopped in. The smoke that the fire monster was emitting was something else entirely, that perhaps was the reason for the dark film on everything.

Still, the other had said he’d missed it the previous time… He had to put it out of his head.

Parscoal…?

What the hell was he even _looking_ for? Sans groaned to himself and covered his sockets with one hand. He had to calm down. His soul was performing an acrobatic trainwreck along his ribs and he rubbed at his sternum through his shirt to settle his restlessness. Parscoals had to be a fire monster food, he figured. That seemed like the correct assumption. It’s not like Grillby ate pine cones or anything, right? He had to chuckle at the thought of it, though.

He managed to find an oil lamp that blazed feebly in the kitchen. Eventually after a few failed attempts at opening some cupboards and finding nothing, Sans found a bag of charcoal that resembled a root vegetable at the bottom of the pantry - if he squinted hard enough. Curious, he broke a piece in half and its woody interior released a vague scent of carrot and yams.

Satisfied, he took down a metal bowl from the overhead cupboards and put the halves to the side and searched for something to chop them up into more manageable pieces.

His hand stopped at one of the drawers when he pulled it open. The gleaming edges made a shock of memory pass through his ribs and he reflexively pulled his hand away to cover his chest.

What was that feeling? Sans couldn’t be sure but he stared at the contents of the drawer and the neat row of sharp knives in the dim light. He knew it had to be due to his bad nights. He tried to convince himself that those had been _thorns,_ not knives that had slashed through him.

That conviction wasn’t any better and Sans still felt unsettled.

It had been awhile since he’d helped Papyrus prepare any meals together. In fact, since Undyne had been coaching him, Papyrus rarely used utensils apart from a long wooden spoon and a colander. He fondly recalled a surprisingly easy-to-absorb lasagna that his brother had concocted, but hadn’t gotten more than one helping since a little white dog had intercepted the leftovers. The dog hadn’t been around since then, but occasionally he would recall Papyrus’ exuberant dissatisfaction of said animal ruining his dish and stealing his attacks.

His hand trembled over the expanse of sharpened steel, several emotions battling within him. Every time he attempted to make a selection, something pinched across his rib cage and for a moment, Sans thought he felt a warm trickle down his front. Swallowing apprehensively, he looked to his chest and patted down the shirt, the sensation so real that it was worrying. There was no leakage of magic, no stain of red. No cause for concern.

He inhaled a shuddering breath, pushing the knife drawer closed. He managed to conjure a sharpened bone instead, the smallest he could handle without things being overly cumbersome. It didn’t bite at his reserves too harshly, so he left it at that. The parscoals were fragrant and the interior dry when he clumsily chopped into them, so no moisture would threaten the ill monster in the next room. Thankfully, the scent helped to stave off the sensation of being attacked and soothed him.

As though the thought pestered him, Sans dispelled the bone and brought a piece out for Grillby, who was dozing where he’d left him. As he approached, Sans tossed the piece in the air and caught it, something to do to hopefully calm his figurative nerves.

“so… do i gotta cook these, or…?” He left the sentence hanging as Grillby stirred and blinked wearily at him. He didn’t look like he was focused. “didn’t mean to wake you.”

Grillby reached up and rubbed over the bridge between his eyes, jostling his glasses with a sleepy inhale. _“It’s fine as is.”_

Sans watched the fire monster for a moment before strolling over, the piece of food in hand. Grillby tilted his head up, either attempting to hide his confusion or just feeling so worse for wear that he was unable to hide it behind his usual flames.

“here,” the skeleton offered, leaning in close with the piece to the crack of Grillby’s mouth. “lemme know if it’s ok.”

Sans wasn’t sure how to gauge the other’s reaction; of what he perceived to be a kind of fever, yet not. Grillby’s flames grew a little brighter as the piece of parscoal slipped into his mouth with a fiery crackle. What he saw the plasmic confines of the fire monster’s mouth was pliable, white-hot as his core, magma hidden inside. He couldn’t help but lose his train of thought when he realised just how _hot_ the kisses they shared had been and he felt his face burning at the reminder, embarrassed that he was thinking this way.

A loud pop came from somewhere within the fire monster’s form that startled Sans enough to flinch out of his thoughts, finding the other was sending him a grin.

“…what,” the skeleton muttered, trying to remain neutral in his tone and sounding innocent. It only just registered that he was cupping the side of the other's face and drew his hand away sheepishly.

Grillby watched him as more paler flames danced about his visage before they fluttered away; in that instant he seemed revitalised. _“Not a thing,”_ he voiced innocently, grinning a little wider as Sans scratched the back of his leg with his foot. _“You’ve found one that… tastes perfect.”_

Sans wasn’t sure how to take the compliment, so let his eye lights follow the flicker of flames in the hearth, still staying close. He couldn’t move Grillby away from it, but maybe he could push the chair closer or something? He’d have to try after regaining a bit more strength. It was possible the fire monster had something hanging around that wasn’t licorice-flavoured or overtly spicy.

Slipping away, Sans mumbled, “i’ll get the rest, then,” wondering just why that little interaction sent his soul to beating furiously. Was it the sensation from before? Thinking about kissing? Or just Grillby, and making sure he was ok, and how he could make him feel better…

The skeleton covered his face again once he re-entered the kitchen, taking a moment to breathe. It was silly to be this way, with how vulnerable Grillby was. It was cheeky and felt a little sour, especially when the other was still weary, yet flirtatious. Sans rubbed his hand over his temple and took in a shuddering breath, then coughed. The smoke wasn’t helping to clear his thoughts.

Quickly, he grabbed the portions of cut food and threw them into the metal bowl, soul hammering hard as he whirled around and re-entered the living room. Grillby had taken to propping himself up and shifting back on the chair so he would be upright for the food. He leaned back with his legs dangling over the opposite armrest, fleece blanket covering him from his chest down to his feet. The skeleton made his way over with a tight grin when he offered the bowl.

 _“...Appreciate this,”_ the fire monster muttered as the other set the bowl in front of him. He was then helped to sit up and the food brought closer while Sans lingered nearby as though he didn’t know what to do with himself. _“I apologise for the trouble.”_

“no trouble,” the skeleton replied automatically, still preoccupied in his wandering thoughts as the fire monster popped a couple of pieces into his maw. Embers popped off of his body more readily with the added fuel, his exposed chest brightening with every bite. “how’re you feelin’ now?”

It seemed like Sans didn’t know what to say after all that, and Grillby regarded him thoughtfully as his magic absorbed the pieces. _“Just fine, as I’ve assured you.”_

The other watched him, seemingly unconvinced. His grin was tight and his whole body tensed, hands stuffed into the silly orange hoodie he had opted for in lieu of his usual one. If Grillby remained quiet, he could hear the subtle pass of trembles that passed through Sans’ body and the low note of rattling. Then it would stop. Then it would start again.

With another sigh, Grillby held out his arm, strengthened by the food. While he wasn’t sure how much of a proficient cook the skeleton was, it was clear that the other was worried. The pieces had been haphazardly chopped and uneven, but intent to help was all there - which was all the fire monster needed to see to strengthening his core and feeling more at ease.

Sans hesitated at the proffered hand, watching as the flames along Grillby’s arm clung to his form, threatening to drop. He inhaled a shuddered breath and extended his own, a startled gasp escaping him when the other jerked him forward with surprising strength.

 _“I… assure you,”_ the fire monster breathed, tone rich and smoother with a hint of a dampened hiss as he pulled Sans towards him, _“I am fine.”_

Sans was searching the other’s face, soul thudding sharply with the strong hold on his arm. His body tensed, spine aching with the odd angle he was bent over the other’s form and he leaned his right hand on the chair’s arm for support.

Not seeing any sense of ruse or selfish dismissal, the skeleton relaxed a little with a soft exhale. “fine an’ dandy?”

Grillby grinned at him, unable to help but chuckle. _“Like periwinkle candy.”_

Sans made a face - or at least, attempted to, his permanent grin shifting into a grimace while his brow quirked at the rhyme. He offered a laugh, then grunted when Grillby pulled him closer.

“uh-” His soul was hammering hard again, this time due to the other’s cocky grin. “kinda… close.”

 _“Of course, it’s no plush mattress,”_ the other laughed quietly, flames dancing a little more with the other’s proximity, _“although you are… more than welcome to stay to nap.”_

“oh.” _Calm down, Sans,_ the skeleton’s thoughts chastised as he attempted to settle his widened grin. Grillby gave his arm a beckoning tug and the sensation sent a familiar thrill through his body. “welp. can’t argue with a free lay-in.”

Grillby appeared to have recovered quickly enough, the density of his body more sturdy than when Sans had pushed him down. Sans awkwardly manoeuvred away to bring the other chair to the one occupied by Grillby, pushing them together alongside the ottoman to create a makeshift bed. He moved to the other side and Grillby watched, eyes bright, as he shifted shyly about. He was so restless, but the other was patient long enough to move up so Sans could join him. Settled with his head in the skeleton’s lap while his own legs dangled off the sides of the opposite chair, Grillby breathed out a sigh of relief after the clumsy shuffle, sapped of strength.

Sans was snickering, unable to keep himself from jostling the fire monster’s head in his lap. Every snicker brought on more movement and made him chuckle more, until he was laughing quietly, unable to help himself. Grillby gave him a peculiar look but seemed amused himself, reaching for Sans’ hands to bring them down past his shoulders.

_“Not as worried?”_

Sans continued laughing, trying to restrain the reaction as he watched Grillby tilt his head back, almost caving into the space between his pelvis and ribs. “nah,” he said after a while, his soul hammering with the subtle heat seeping into his clothes to creep along his ribs. “you seem ok, grillbz.”

 _“I have no inclination of misleading you, you know,”_ the fire monster muttered, gently toying with the phalanges in his hands. _“If I am unwell, I will tell you.”_

Sans knew that was a subtle jab at his own secrecy but he was concerned with the way the other’s heat was seeping into his pelvis. If he shifted, the movement would be noted and he would be teased - and be more than a little mortified.

Giving an honest shrug, the skeleton fed his magic around his bones as something he’d never really tried before… just a small barrier, a subtle sling to keep the intrusive heat and thoughts away.

“`preciate it,” the skeleton mumbled, fingers idly stroking along with Grillby’s as they were held, feeling his soul flutter nervously at the gentle touches. The barrier of magic between his spine and the freespace under his ribs strengthened easily, subtly cradling Grillby’s head. God, he hoped the other didn’t notice. Maybe it was more acceptable to stuff a cushion there instead. Sans glared at the small decorative pillow on the opposite chair as though entertaining the idea.

The other was watching him intently, eyes softening when he felt the peculiar rush of magic start to cushion behind him, but he didn’t point it out. Instead, he rubbed soft circles around the other’s metacarpals, drawing out an appreciative hum from the monster behind him. He felt Sans relax, his body sink against the back of the chair and watched as the other’s eye sockets slowly closed.

Here, Grillby debated saying it. It seemed like the perfect moment to give in - to throw caution to the wind and say his ‘I love you’s. His soul would sing if he could see the skeleton’s reaction, feeling the snap and crackle of magic between them to shift into a mutual overture of giddy happiness.

Grillby felt the words catch in his throat, his heart and soul pinching when he saw Sans reopen his eye sockets to look at him again, then glance away just as quickly. He must’ve known, Grillby thought, perhaps he was hanging onto their conversation from the previous day. From the quaint little slip-up in Waterfall to when Grillby felt his heart and soul hammering like an anvil, ready to burst to all but yell it back in turn.

It had taken everything he was made of to call Sans, over and over, until the skeleton finally relented and the words caught in Grillby’s throat. While his tone had been teasing, the echo of the other’s salutation was enough to spark through his being like an ignited gas line, peppering the countertop with live embers and startling a few patrons after he had very abruptly hung up.

His soul was hammering so hard, Grillby was sure the other could feel it bouncing through his form. Instead, the other merely shifted down a little, letting one of his bony legs dangle off the side of the makeshift furniture bed with a laugh.

“you look cosy, at least.” Behind the words, Sans felt his own feelings seep through, unable to stop fixating on his little blunder from before. He hadn’t really been able to put it out of his head and idly wondered if the other had been thinking along the same lines.

Sans smirked to himself, recollecting the other’s admission.

_Love ya, too._

He felt flush, his soul beating harder as the sweet quiet was interrupted by the gentle pops of fire in the hearth.

 _“I am,”_ the fire monster murmured softly. _“...Have it on good authority that skeletons are very cuddly. Besides, we have that hug tab to take care of.”_

Sans felt heat rise into his face again and stared anywhere but the heatsource huddled against him. “mhm.” After a moment he looked back, grinning.

Gently, he pulled his arm up, watching as Grillby’s eyes followed his hand. Tremors started in his chest as he chanced it. One digit left a wake of shivers through the other’s flames as Sans traced a line from where his hand was and up the other’s throat, following the curve of Grillby’s jaw.

He saw the way the other’s chest rose and fell with Grillby’s shaky breaths. Whether or not it was due to excitement or the release of dwindling smoke, Sans wasn’t sure. He was able to draw on his reserves however, shyly bending forward as his other hand smoothed up the other side of Grillby’s neck and held him, pressing his teeth against the fire monster’s brow.

A contented hum broke from the other’s chest and Sans felt his soul flutter at the reaction, his grin spreading and feeling a little foolish for the tender display. Grillby slid his hands up to meet with his own and clasped them, tilting his head back as though to reach for a kiss himself.

Sans indulged him, unable to help himself as he leaned forward to capture the other’s mouth. He felt the subtle shocks and trembles pass through his body with the soft flow of affection, how the other’s gentle movements caused him to seek out more touch than before. He hummed into the sweet kiss, flush and panting while Grillby reached up and brought his skull closer, his own hands _itching_ to move of their own accord.

Sans pushed them down to Grillby’s chest, his phalanges bunching in the fabric of his nightshirt as the other arched up with a muffled grunt. All Sans could taste was spice and smoke, an intoxicating flavour that had him craving more. He pressed forward, his fingertips grazing between the folds of the other’s shirt, flames hiking up in excitement wherever they moved.

Sans was sure he could hear something amongst the flames, telltale whispers for touch, for _more,_ urging him to dig the tips of his fingers in and bring out more throaty noises from his lover. He hummed and gasped while the other’s fingers traced dizzying sensations against his neck and it sent heated pinpricks down every vertebrae.

Why was touch so easy? Why was _saying_ what he wanted to say so difficult? It was beyond frustrating, feeling as he did yet having no outlet to express himself in the simplest ways. Sans shifted his leg to allow Grillby to push himself up higher, more into his arms, breathless gasps and laughs between them through multiple kisses. The other’s flames were strengthened as though the kisses shared between them were nourishing and Sans couldn’t help but laugh at the thought, humming as he pushed a hand inside of Grillby’s shirt to lay against his chest.

It was warm, _god,_ it was a thrumming heat. He swore he could feel the vibrant pulse of the other’s soul, how his core flared under his fingers, how everything seemed beautiful and as bright as a thousand sunsets.

He felt the other’s breath catch against him and Sans grinned, pushing his hands down more, exploring the expanse of craggs and cracks under his fire. There was a divot that caught his interest, spurred by a breathy gasp that had Grillby arching again with a strangled groan into his mouth.

Sans’ body went tense as he realised what he must’ve grazed over, withdrawing to look to his hands with hazy recognition. His soul was thrumming wildly in his chest with the white glow beneath his fingers, how it yielded to him and throbbed against his bones with ethereal heat and plush firmness.

He swallowed in shock, the glow unmistakable.

Grillby’s soul.

He… he almost just - and when he was vulnerable, _sick, and…_

“uh, w-whoops,” he said breathlessly, withdrawing his hands. Grillby’s eyes were searching his face but now the skeleton was looking away from him, flushing and tense again. His hands curled away from the fire monster’s torso and lingered at his shoulders, trembling.

Shit. That was such a gross overstep of boundaries, he thought in reprimand. Sans’ breaths were still hard from their kissing and Grillby’s were too, although he looked a little bewildered at what had just happened.

 _“It’s fine,”_ he offered kindly. Swirls of gold touched with white flecked from his flames as he touched the centre of his chest, an unsure smirk hidden on his face.

Progressing so quickly.

Well, wasn’t that fanciful?

A few more embers popped off of him, flushing so pronounced that he lit up the room even brighter than before, embers buzzing around like fireflies.

 _“...That's one way to kindle an ailing blaze,”_ Grillby teased to lighten the mood but saw the way Sans’ eye lights flickered nervously, as though he believed some threshold had been irreparably crossed. Grillby sighed and pushed himself up a little to twist around, circling one arm around the other’s middle to huddle close. _“...Felt nice.”_

“no, uh… weirdness?” the other asked stiffly. Grillby could feel that Sans’ body had tensed and even his hands hovered, unsure, just over his shoulders. “no pain?”

 _“Don’t be silly.”_ Grillby pulled Sans’ right arm down and around to encircle himself, then did the same with the fleece blanket so they were both covered, insulated and kept warm by his inclining heat.

Sans couldn’t help but feel out of place with the improper touch. Of course, he’d felt a strong connection, but now his own soul was thundering in his rib cage, giving off a light cast under his clothes. He felt Grillby sigh against him and he moved up, feeling an echo pulse through the other’s body.

The fire monster’s face was level with his own and Sans couldn’t help but try to avoid the subtle flecks of amber, magenta and fiery opalescence staring back at him from behind the other’s frames.

_“You’re being silly.”_

Sans’ mouth felt dry, an odd feeling that hadn’t registered earlier until he’d caught a peek at the other’s. Cautiously, he shrugged, unable to shake off the feeling that he had made a grave mistake.

 _“Forward… but silly,”_ the other chuckled quietly, the crack of his mouth upturning into a devilish grin. _“Should I offer an explanation..?”_

The skeleton’s face flushed in embarrassment, grin tightening as he turned his skull away to stare at the fireplace. “teasin’ me again, huh,” he muttered dryly.

The fire monster scoffed playfully, his strength renewed as though fuelled by the skeleton’s bashful behaviour. Gently, he traced a soothing line under the other’s right eye, not drawing attention to it, yet curious about what he had overheard Sans say about being blind in one side… and about a dead arm. He put the thought from his head and nestled his face next to Sans’ skull, allowing what little weight he had to seep against him, burdened by retaining his form.

 _“I apologise for… making you uncomfortable,”_ he muttered gently. He felt the skeletal hand rub at his back briefly before it stopped, but it wasn’t pulled away. He wanted to ask if Sans intended to stay - honestly, he would be a little disappointed, but he wouldn’t coerce the other into staying for him if he didn’t want to. _“If the smoke bothers you… you may leave. I’ll be alright.”_

Grillby grimaced inwardly when Sans suddenly barked with laughter, jostling the both of them. “man, nah. m’good,” the skeleton’s voice rumbled from somewhere deep in his rib cage, muffled against the fire monster’s head.

_“...Have you eaten?”_

Sans hesitated before mumbling truthfully, “had somethin’ this morning.”

_“Get something.”_

“m’cosy,” Sans shot back with a shrug, pulling the other against him as he sunk more naturally into the chair’s cushions. “after.”

Grillby huffed out an exasperated sigh tinged with a coil of grey smoke. _“...You’ve told your brother where you are?”_

“uh…”

 _“I can’t afford to lose heat right now if he decides to throw another snowball,”_ Grillby gently reminded him, grinning with the memory.

Sans flushed and awkwardly moved his other arm from his side to grab his phone, tapping out a few quick messages to his brother in succession. After a moment’s hesitation, the skeleton shoved his phone back into his pocket without waiting for the reply, his soul full of trepidation over his little faux pas.

He decided to see how Grillby’s health was faring, sending a discreet probe to the other’s soul. The fire monster merely scoffed, but didn’t move.

> **[ * 492 HP ]**

Well. That was better, at least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Grillby out of sorts, Sans gets the idea to spark some fire, leading to a reveal that Grillby has suspected for some time. Grillby comes to a realisation that Sans has not reported the attack. Sans vents his emotions.

It was several hours into the following morning that Sans reawoke, ribs aching from the dull throbbing heat laying against him. He shifted slightly until he recognised Grillby’s body was still sprawled across him. The blanket had dropped from their shoulders at some point and Sans could see how the fire monster’s form was still not as bright as previously. If he remembered correctly, it wasn’t necessarily anything to worry about, since the fire monster slept like that all the time. Maybe it was to conserve energy…?

With a stifled cough, he gently nudged Grillby. “hey. ready for more parcel-coal?” he muttered groggily, one hand idly stroking the other’s back. The flames wilted away from view after briefly kindling, sharp snaps akin to sparks coming off the bartender’s body in rebuke.

_“Hm…”_

Sans felt a blossom of warmth as the other stirred against him. For a moment it felt as intense as when Grillby was well, but it soon petered out once more. Instead, Grillby sunk further against him and the skeleton had to stop himself from gasping out when the heat permeated through his clothes. That was a good sign, at least.

“guess i can wrap it to go,” Sans grunted, moving again. Grillby merely hummed in reply, keeping still as the monster beneath him was starting to feel as though he was projecting varying intensities of heat. “make a special delivery for you, heh.”

 _“.....oo e..r..ly…”_ The bartender rasped sleepily under his breath, giving in to a weak cough.

Sans saw the drift of faint smoke, his soul doing a nervous little skip when he recognised that Grillby was still unwell. Of course he was, he thought in self-reprimand. It had only been overnight. “`nother coupla days?”

Grillby grunted sourly, either not bothering or not having the strength to move.

The skeleton drew in a long breath, idly stroking over the other’s back as he moved to push himself up to a sitting position - or at least to a more comfortable one. His eye lights settled on the brief little sputters of flame crawling over the other’s form, dwindling points of weak light that flared up and resettled. It was obvious that the fire monster wasn’t fully awake, merely reacting to movement and sounds while he drifted off to sleep again.

Sans found it a struggle to get up, despite Grillby’s body having no tangible weight. It was more awkward with his limbs wrapped around him and his shoulder was nestled into the freespace under his ribs. Sans was only able to tilt his body to the side so the sick monster could do the same, checking over the other’s face in case he could see the weary signs of poor health.

Gently, he Checked - so obsessive over Grillby’s recovery that he was willing to do it so many times. The other _had_ refused his offer to fetch a healer, after all. It was all he really felt he could do.

> **[ * 699HP ]**

A sharp, boiling hiss that ended on a crackle echoed from the depths of Grillby’s chest and Sans quickly ended the inquiry, his magic suffusing his face in admonishment. He wasn’t sure of the maximum value of Grillby’s health, since he had only Checked when he and Grillby were about to spar, and even then the bartender had been outside for quite some time. He wasn’t about to ask, either; if he recalled, it had been somewhere in the high 900’s.

The skeleton’s eye sockets darkened as he trailed a few fingers over the other’s head, watching as the sleeping flames jumped and popped in startled little movements. From somewhere inside, he was sure that he could hear the telltale whisper, an ethereal noise that bit at his subconsciousness and prodded at a notion that Sans wasn’t sure if it was right or not.

_‘Soft… Not warm… Closer. More hot. Spare reserves. Cyclical energies… need more.’_

“aw, bud,” Sans mumbled tightly, his grin teetering on the edge of worry. It was strange how the words brought up distress in him, as though its meaning was hidden. “gonna go out on a limb and say you need to eat somethin’, if you’re that low on magic.” He huffed a sigh and reached over the other’s form to grab a wrapped pack of crackers and cubed cheese from the stand. “c’mon, star power. crack open them peepers for me an’ i can see about gettin’ some food into ya,” he offered quietly as he tore open the packaging.

Even though Sans was trying with all of his might not to allow his concern to filter through, Grillby could detect the way his voice sounded strained when he opened his eyes, weary from burning so ineffectively. He glanced around, his glasses askew, before he was helped to sit up, cradled by the chair’s arms again. A familiar yet disgusted shudder went through his flames with the sudden dip in temperature and Grillby muffled a grunt, attempting to keep himself steady. It appeared that Sans was doing his best to keep him from toppling over.

He appreciated all that the other was doing, in fact. The days felt like they were blending together, but Sans being there really put the uncomfortable process of literally burning away the moisture in a better light. The fire monster grinned feebly when he felt a skeletal hand cup under his jaw to keep him from slumping and something was offered to his mouth.

“here.” The food was insistently pushed against his maw and Grillby instinctively opened his mouth. While the flavour was bland, the hot confines of his mouth singed it upon contact, adding fuel to a desperate blaze. After a moment he hummed quietly, eyes blearily focusing on the other monster.

Sans looked worried, his eye lights void in the pitch of his sockets and his grin had fallen flat. In fact, Grillby was sure he could hear grinding, a nervous little tic that he’d picked up from Papyrus at some point. The fire monster drew in a deep breath, his flames circling over his form with renewed energy before plummeting again, his light ebbing and waning. Then it pulsed, then dimmed - similar to how he managed his temperature in Waterfall on their way through.

 _“...Thank you,”_ he said softly, meaning it with all his heart. He saw the way Sans flushed a little and felt the minute way his magic spiked when he spoke. Why he was like this when he expressed his gratitude, Grillby didn’t know. Or perhaps he knew why. He smiled all the same, leaning forward a little when another cracker was given to him.

“just… get better. ok?” the skeleton mumbled lowly. Grillby nodded, slowly consuming the pieces he was offered until the pouch was empty.

After awhile, Sans sat on the ottoman in front of him, eye lights returned and searching. The fire monster watched him, a question in his heart, but the other inhaled sharply, cutting away the urge to speak.

“cyclical energy?”

Grillby tilted his head, a few embers sparking off of him akin to a silent question. Sans’ grin rose a little and the skeleton shrugged the tension from his shoulders. “had a feelin’ that… i dunno. you need help gettin’ things goin’?”

It was Grillby’s turn to flush, the reaction so abrupt that Sans flinched. Instead, the fire monster laughed softly, his voice tired when he spoke; _“However did you come to that conclusion…?”_

Sans shifted uncomfortably. “lucky guess,” he said covertly with a wink. “can i help?”

Grillby cast his glance to the side to the warm hearth still crackling merrily nearby, then back to his friend. His core was skittering, beating like an uneven drum while he thought about it.

A dead arm. He wondered if Sans could really help. He wondered if maybe this skeleton was strong enough now to exert the amount of energy needed to strengthen his blaze. Although, Sans wouldn’t have offered if he thought he couldn’t help, would he? Grillby almost scoffed; of course, Sans would. He was stubborn and pretended that a lot of things were fine, even when this was not the case.

After hesitating, watching as Sans grew increasingly uncomfortable with the silence, Grillby exhaled a warm breath, a thin coil of smoke floating in the air between them.

 _“Suppose you could,”_ the fire monster finally answered, hiding his resignation. He lifted one of his hands to graze over the other’s, feeling how the digits’ energy created the peculiar tugging sensation as they always did. Grillby had to smile with the thought, curling his hand into Sans’ loose fist to weave their fingers together.

He felt a pulse again and Grillby couldn’t help the grin that snuck up on him with Sans’ reaction, how his magic jumped and skittered around his bones with a soulful light. He felt the other’s eye lights on him and the fire monster sighed, taking the other’s right hand as well.

Sans felt his soul tremble as the other did so, his thoughts teeming with memories that were resurfacing in short little bewildered bursts. Of clasping hands with another - and his brother. Of trying it with Alphys once his arm was secured after his recovery. A monster with a winking eye… but he barely remembered anything else, apart from an accompanying warm comfort.

It blended into an awkward flutter when Sans recalled the brief touch upon the other’s soul and his eye lights were drawn to the centre of Grillby’s chest. He remembered the way it had shuddered against his fingertips and thumped straight through his body, echoing a longing he’d never felt before.

Sans exhaled the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and watched as Grillby straightened. He’d drawn a leg under himself so they could more comfortably sit across from one another, hands clasped, palms flush and hovering at each other’s sides. Sans was trying to focus on anything but the other’s face, attempting to calm his nervous soul as his thoughts needled at him, goading him to look back at the other’s torso.

He _had_ to focus. Sans knew he couldn’t do it before. He felt the penetrating weight of Grillby’s expectant gaze and knew that the other likely wanted him to help. And Sans found that he _did_ want to help. It was less an excuse that he was responsible, and more like he just genuinely wanted the other to feel well again.

_“Do you know how to do it?”_

Anxious, Sans’ eye lights flicked up to Grillby’s visage, then immediately down to the first button on his shirt. With Grillby’s dimly-cast demeanour, Sans could see the faint glow of the other’s soul, just behind his clothes, hidden away by the other’s body. His voice felt tight and he was trying very hard for his hands not to clench reflexively.

“yeah.” Good, he didn’t sound shaky at all. That helped to ground him as he automatically tried to pull from his stamina to filter through and flinched in pain, halting the process. Shit, he’d done it wrong already.

Grillby had picked up on that and tensed, unfortunately. _“What was that?”_

The skeleton grinned a bit sheepishly, giving his shoulder a roll as his mind darted from one explanation to another. “uh… remember that thing i said?” With the other’s weary head tilt, Sans continued a little uncomfortably, “well, i… don’t really know how else to put it apart from… that’s how i’ve been managin’ to get by up `til recently. `bout my body sortin’ out some stuff,” he mumbled sourly.

Grillby remained quiet yet Sans knew he was trying to look into it, to read between the lines. But apart from ‘recently’ there wasn’t anything the fire monster had to go on, and he certainly couldn’t connect the dots between the delay in his maturation and now.

Embarrassed, the skeleton coughed and pushed his hands further into Grillby’s, his flux circulating feebly at his right side before it dissipated just above his shoulder. His left side spilled out to compensate for the irregular flow while his right felt heavy, almost competing with the natural flow that snaked down his joints to keep everything moving.

He supposed this was the way he was going to push out his magic - a newer feeling considering what he had tried with the unknown person in his memory, Papyrus and even Alphys had failed so many times before. He knew it was due to utilising his stamina instead, his magic reserves locked away. Or rather, they had never really manifested as an adult.

He found that was the reason why he was even attempting to help circulate magic in the first place; now that he’d unlocked it, in a way, he felt like he could try. He _would_ try.

Sans gritted his teeth as he fed the magic into Grillby’s right hand, the wellspring of magic quickly roaring through the other’s blaze in a mix of pulsing, reddening flames. The fire monster’s grip tightened against his left hand and Sans shot him a sheepish grin, his soul thrumming nervously as the magic flooded up the fire monster’s arm, crackling like a hearty blaze as it went, cresting with softer arcs around his limbs.

A few slow courses around the other’s body and the circle would need to be completed - and would have to be returned back to him. Sans wasn’t looking forward to what would happen if that wasn’t the case. It would just be awkward.

Instead, he focused on Grillby, on feeding him subtle little shocks of his magic while his flames built up and brightened. The bartender’s smile was infectious as Sans watched with curiosity, how his demeanour changed in colour, brightened with varying intensities and pulsing with echoing heat.

 _“Better…”_ the other sighed, relief evident in his voice as he hunched his shoulders. If he didn’t know any better, the skeleton was sure that Grillby was enjoying this. A crisp snap popped off the other’s left hand and Sans eyed it warily, not at all looking forward to the circulation’s completion.

“glad to get your mojo goin’,” the skeleton snickered and leaned forward to the other’s heat, much more intense than before. He missed it. “you look like a million bucks already.”

Amber sparks ignited through the air with the compliment and Grillby laughed, hanging his head. The flames on his head had gradually broadened back to their previous lustre, swirling around as Sans could detect the smallest fraction of a hum. It sounded like jubilence, of the tiniest flames giddily rushing around Grillby’s form.

Grillby’s grin was strengthened and he pushed against Sans’ hands, giving each one a squeeze. _“Embarrassing…”_ he chuckled, relief evident in his tone, _“yet… very much appreciated.”_

Sans couldn’t help but return the grin, his soul still flipping anxiously in his rib cage. Experimentally, he squeezed his hands in return, unable to keep them from shaking.

_“...Are you alright?”_

The other blinked at him as his magic tapered off - perhaps a bit sooner than what was anticipated. Sans didn’t want to overload him, especially if he couldn’t accept the returning inward bound of magic when things were better. Thickly, Sans grunted and squirmed where he sat, a small trickle of sweat following his jaw and down the vertebrae of his neck.

“y-yeah. why wouldn’t i be?” His voice broke as he stopped the flow, anxious for what would happen next. With Papyrus, the last person he had attempted this decades earlier with, there wasn’t any rebound, but he’d simply lost the energy and Papyrus remained as exuberant as before.

He could feel it even now, how Sans rocked forward a little when Grillby pushed his hands against him, as though to get him to stop. And in turn, Sans could make out the perplexed look that passed through Grillby’s flames and he huffed a soft breath in resignation.

Grillby didn’t say anything, merely watched as Sans attempted to keep himself upright. Instead, he clasped his hands with a bit more force, giving the skeleton a start. _“Perhaps we should end this,”_ he finally said after surveying his friend’s teetering stance.

Sans tensed, his soul jumping when his phalanges felt the prickling heat of the other’s magic push into his right hand. “uh-” He grimaced, grin tightening with effort and his face contorted with the building needle-like throb against the bones of his arm. The energy was battling with the downward spiral of crafted magic, simulating life, and it had been awhile since Sans even had to think about it. It had been so long that filtering his flux to mimic natural movement was second-nature now.

Grillby leaned forward, strengthened by the other’s energy with the curious way his flames were both bolstered and sent fleeing with the other’s magic. His eyes followed the way Sans’ rib cage had jumped, how his left hand tightened against his right, how every little nudge against his opposite side made a startled and almost panicked gasp escape Sans.

_“Tell me..?”_

Sans swallowed, not daring to reopen his eye sockets. In fact, he wasn’t sure when he had closed them in the first place, but both of his hands were squeezing Grillby’s tightly. It was ridiculous to pretend, even if it wasn’t serious, but he didn’t want to be exhausted when he only just got better again.

The more history he offered up, the less of a burden Sans felt he had to shoulder alone. Wincing as he attempted to draw the heated magic up his right arm - and failing - he gave in to a defensive laugh.

“man. i dunno what you overheard when me an’ pap had words… but m’not in the best shape lately,” Sans admitted, clenching his teeth together as his magic twisted in his right arm in protest. It spiralled and contracted, in conflict with the energy that was attempting to re-enter his body and he gave in to a hiss. “actually i’ve never really been in any shape, but…”

Grillby’s flames arranged themselves into a frown but he didn’t interrupt, keeping his hands steady despite Sans’ trembling. The skeleton glanced to his right side and the wisps of cyan hues pouring off his hand like steam, filtering away into the air the longer Grillby tried to give it back.

“let’s try the secret thing again… although i kinda figured you’d already heard.”

Grillby remained patient and Sans hesitated, parting his teeth to allow words to come out, yet getting stuck; “i’m-” It was different than when he had admitted to having Fallen Down. Or how piteously low his health was. It was more secrets being exposed, things that Grillby _had_ to know if everything was going to work out. No secrets. No lies. No more surprises. He didn’t want things to be so messed up between them and Sans certainly didn’t want to leave Grillby out of the loop.

Not after everything he’d done for him.

So, he swallowed again, the action so peculiar that he fixated on it, before quickly muttering, “my whole right side doesn’t work-”

The fire’s movements flickered calmly, in fact calmer than Sans had been anticipating. Was this guy really serious? Was Grillby for real? The skeleton was avoiding his gaze, his soul thrumming in near-panic and anticipation. He wasn’t sure how to handle the silence. He didn’t want to be rejected.

Stuttering and hating every word, Sans tried again, “b-blind in my right eye. it’s, uh, also why my leg detached… and my ar-arm-”

 _“Calm,”_ the fire monster breathed, leaning forward. _“I’m aware.”_

“you’re not gonna tell me you’ve known the entire t-time, are you?” Sans fumbled for a joke but ended up feeling partially horrified and embarrassed instead.

The bartender shrugged, jostling Sans’ arms as he did so and sending him a knowing, roguish grin.

Sans gaped at him in silence. Every word and thought that started in his head tumbled over themselves, unable to process. He knew he shouldn’t be shocked when Grillby was so accepting, yet Sans still believed somewhere inside of him that he would be pushed away the more he revealed.

 _“Really… How long has it been since we’ve known each other? However, I must be truthful. Although I had my suspicions, until I had overheard you confirming them… well,”_ Grillby sighed quietly. _“I suppose it had still caught me off-guard to find that they were true.”_

Sans wasn’t able to reply, his eye lights settled on the other’s visage in stunned silence, his mind a whirlwind of disbelief.

 _“...When you stare in such a way…”_ Grillby said under his breath, trying to nudge the magic along the right arm again experimentally, _“Should I make a `big deal` about it..? You appear to have reservations on how others should react. Although you are… surprised when the results are contrary to your beliefs.”_

Sans continued to be silent but he nodded anyway. There didn’t appear to be anything he _could_ say to that. Feebly, he attempted to draw his magic down his right arm to recollect the offered energy, flinching again when it predictably failed and cut off just past the joint connecting to his humerus. There was nothing to bridge with from the shoulder down and the phantom sensation sent his magic lurching instead.

 _“Would it be prying of me to ask what it means to be `CORE magic`…?”_ the other continued softly, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against the other’s fingerbones. _“Apart from… being dangerous in nature.”_

The skeleton finally found it in himself to move, shifting uncomfortably. He had to laugh to jerk himself out of his thoughts. “dangerous, eh.”

 _“From… what I have witnessed, it does appear so, yes. Your brother has expressed concern about it, at the very least,”_ the other said, suddenly very careful. _“Although I am not entirely sure why. Apart from… your accident. No one had thought to explain anything during that time.”_

Sans watched as the magic pressed against his right hand fettered around his digits uselessly, then he huffed a deep breath. “guess so.”

_“Hmm?”_

“i guess i’ve never really thought about it,” Sans shrugged again, “an’ it’s been awhile, i dunno, since i’ve put conscious thought to it. sometimes i got moments of goin’ back, other times i just think, ‘hey, y’know, it’d be nice to not have to worry about everything and just go for it’.”

Grillby’s mouth hardened into a thin glowing line in a vague frown. _“Was not… my meaning to make you uncomfortable,”_ he said crisply. _“I apologise for upsetting you.”_

“you’re ok. you didn’t.” There wasn’t a lot Sans could do with his hands trapped, so he looked back to the other’s torso, then up to Grillby’s face. “we’re cool. thanks for bein’ patient with me.”

Grillby gave him an awkward smile, one of the rare few Sans had ever seen. Grinning to himself a little foolishly and still feeling like he was treading around a rather large secret, the skeleton sighed.

“when i, uh… had my accident. before. when i fell into the core-” Something seized in his memory and Sans blinked as though to correct his vision. He felt dizzy for a moment but then it passed, leaving Grillby staring at him, dumbfounded. “-i was pulled up, obviously. what hit-” He stopped again, his eye lights searching in front of him, unseeing. “-no, i reached in… and i slipped? i, uh, don’t really remember why i…”

Grillby watched in concern as Sans trailed off again, looking lost. His shoulders had tensed and Grillby felt the other’s left hand squeezing his own with force, his arms trembling. Although they couldn’t break the connection without repercussions, the fire monster leaned forward, pulling the other’s hands down and towards himself in an approximate embrace.

“sorry, m’ok,” the skeleton murmured after a moment. His voice had been soft and a little confused, having spent the short period of time scanning over the voids in his memory. “i haven’t ever really… uh, talked about this. kinda.”

 _“Kind of..?”_ Grillby repeated as Sans leaned back with a distracted, haunted expression. _“You’ve never spoken with… the authorities to report the accident, or therapists, nor…?”_

Sans’ silence spoke volumes and Grillby only sighed, although it held no bitterness. He had a feeling that was the case. Although it brought more concern, Grillby figured that the other’s low health was a factor. With how the other had hinted at how he was treated in New Home, the fire monster had to wonder if that was cause for his secrecy. And also, if Sans had reported the incident concerning the attack - that made him stop.

With how he felt now, he was in no state to question the skeleton about that but it would eventually need to be addressed. Inside of him crawled with the need to investigate, himself, despite how powerless he was and with no lead, Grillby was at a loss. He just breathed, the energy in his left arm sapping parts of his blaze the longer it collected.

_“...Forget what I sai-”_

“i was tryin’ to get someone that fell in,” Sans interrupted, his voice sounding bare. “maybe i should’ve talked about this kinda thing with… i dunno, alph or… or papyrus,” here the skeleton shrugged, “don’t really remember. but then again, the others that saw me go down don’t recall anyone else that fell in either, so i dunno. maybe i was overstressed, and…” His sentence petered off again, but it seemed more natural this time instead of confused.

A few more moments of silence passed between them before the skeleton drew in a shaky breath, finally able to meet the other’s eyes, anxiety twisting at his soul.

“guess i can say with confidence that you’ve heard everything, eh?” he said dryly, then inhaled sharply with another nudge to his right hand. “alright, i’ll… explain the best that i can: core energy is an artificial magic generated by the earth’s mantle. it’s drawn up from the pylons situated around hotland that… were ignited when i was young. with… my magic, although,” Sans stopped again, looking increasingly perplexed, “hm. when i stop to think about it, the feelin’ passes.”

Grillby was watching the shift of expressions as Sans spoke, his own soul trembling as each secret passed the other’s teeth. _“...Which feeling?”_

“dunno. the feelin’ you get when you know you’ve missed something important, i guess.”

The fire monster tilted his head, not really understanding, _“Like an… appointment?”_ When the other shook his skull, he frowned. _“Post-trauma memory loss..?”_

Sans remained quiet and shrugged, jostling Grillby.

 _“Don’t force it, if that is the case,”_ the other urged softly. _“Oftimes forcing yourself leads to stress.”_

Sans nodded thoughtfully, still watching as Grillby’s eyes remained transfixed on him. It was as though he was attempting to judge something about the fire monster’s demeanour.

Grillby swallowed the knot in his throat and gently squeezed the other’s hands in reassurance. _“...The entire right side?”_

“yep.”

 _“You had… used the word `dead`,”_ the fire monster phrased it delicately, still not understanding. If the other’s limbs were ‘dead’, how did the skeleton still have them? How did they move? For awhile, older monsters - the _very_ old - that had been around since the Barrier had been cast sported missing limbs, but over time their bodies had adjusted to it.

He wondered how Sans was doing this. Was it an illusion…? No, he had held the other’s detached leg, healed the crack at his ankle - and had even caressed Sans’ right arm in more tender moments.

“`cept for the magic in my right orbit, i guess you can kinda call it `puppetry`,” Sans shrugged again. “after i woke up… well, actually. after i had recovered enough energy after i fell, i was feelin’ pretty sorry for myself,” here Sans laughed as though it was to ease away his anxiousness, his eye lights flitting to the side. “it sounds kinda dumb, actually. but it’s pretty neat as far as alph’s theories go. since it’s conducive to the way core magic is drawn up from the mantle in a helix-based draw, using my soul as an anchor mimics my physicality in the same way. only when things are unstable, the connection weakens, and…” The skeleton grinned awkwardly and made a popping noise with his tongue, “things get _disjointed.”_

Grillby blinked at him in surprise, his blaze popping in a start when he registered the joke. _“How… macabre of you to joke about that,”_ he chastised quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“helps to not think of it so seriously,” Sans mumbled, drawing a deep breath. “`sides, it’s kinda interestin’ at the same time. i wouldn’t’ve known i had any connection to the core if not for some extensive research. the dimensional boxes, the shortcu-”

 _“The teleportation,”_ Grillby interrupted, unable to keep the grin from appearing. _“Do not sugarcoat it.”_

“you…” Sans felt himself flush through the attention, unsure why he was flattered at all through the fantastical term. “it’s… really not the same.”

 _“Depart from one area… and turn up in another,”_ Grillby leaned forward, his soul giving a little thrill with Sans’ flustered behaviour, glad he could distract him from his sombre mood. _“Teleporting. Magnificent. Amazing!”_

“no fair, i can’t run off this way,” Sans groused softly, giving in to an awkward laugh.

_“Point for me, then.”_

The skeleton felt heat flush his face and he quickly glanced at the other, his grin broadening in embarrassment. “guess so.” The intrusive thoughts of their intimate time together sent his soul to thrumming in his rib cage and he tried to quell it; it was neither the time nor the place. But considering how their earlier points system had ended up, Sans couldn’t help but be oddly excited by the reward at the end of the ‘game’.

Oddly enough, drawing upon the bartender’s soul and the appreciative noises he had extracted from the other, no matter how horrified Sans was at the time, had been a constant reminder. Of a promise, of something a little scary, opening up for Grillby in the same way, Sans knew it would be a challenge, considering his past with his own soul. But the reaction had been electric and now he was _curious._

He supposed his studying wasn’t over, after all.

Sans’ eye lights lingered at the other’s chest and the soft muted glow there, a faint white mote behind the other’s nightshirt that tantalised his thoughts from between languid flames. He hesitated as he forcibly followed the other’s shoulder with his gaze, down to where their hands were connected on Sans’ right side.

“how’s the buildup treatin’ ya?”

Grillby hummed in consideration, his own gaze finding their connection; Sans’ staring did not go unnoticed and he had been entertaining a tease, but ultimately decided it would be in their best interest if he did not. _“Somewhat… uncomfortable. However, I am unsure of the proper way to dispel it, if we cannot complete the rotation.”_

Sans grunted in agreement, sounding somewhat distracted. “guess we just let it erode.”

 _“Hmm.”_ There was a brief but relaxed silence between them before the fire monster shifted a little where he sat, gently squeezing the skeleton’s hands again. _“If I may pose a theory.”_

“mmh?”

Grillby hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. It was so unlike him to just blurt things out, but withholding from Sans did the opposite of what he wanted, and being careful tended to enable him to keep things hidden.

 _“Power surges,”_ the fire monster said haltingly. _“We’ve… experienced many lately. And I know that look, Sans-”_ He caught the way the skeleton hunched and avoided his gaze, briefly winking as though it was a joke. With his accusation however, Sans grimaced with the rebuke. _“It… is further proof that you have been pushing yourself. The CORE, and with what you’ve said. It makes sense, even though I cannot deduce why. I see a connection with several states.”_

Awkwardly, Sans couldn’t look him in the eye. He chose to stare at the first button again, then lower, then to the side. He didn’t know how to explain that, although he had given the other more information than what he had given Papyrus in the past few years. He felt the pinch of guilt and exhaled a deep breath, trying to calm his agitation.

Grillby watched with a sadness hanging inside of him. He knew what it meant now; with Sans pushing himself to his limits in Waterfall and why there was a sudden power surge from the CORE, and then the resulting electrical issues that followed. He picked up on the day before Papyrus came to him for take-out and how the power had failed then, too, and he sighed, his heart heavy.

The intrusive thought passed through his head; if something should happen to Sans, would the CORE fail, or--

He didn’t want to finish that hypothetical and swallowed thickly, his soul hammering in his chest as he attempted to keep his emotions in check.

_“We’ll… leave it be, for now. You said earlier that… you had wanted to talk.”_

As though it offered an escape, the skeleton’s shoulders slumped with relief. Sans’ grin fell and his eye lights flitted up, seeing the other’s neutral features carefully masked. He coughed quietly and automatically returned the squeeze, unsure where to begin.

“i, uh-” To say the very least, Sans felt caught off guard and put on the spot, even with the change in subject. He would have loved to scratch at his skull, to shove his hands in balled fists into his hoodie, but he was kept still. He wanted to release his agitation in some way, to take the edge off being put on the spot. He lowered his eye lights to the centre of Grillby’s chest before quickly looking elsewhere, admonished for the intrusive thought.

“i… had wanted to say,” he began a little shortly, “that m’sorry for draggin’ you into this whole mess with, uh… with me an’ the bro.”

Grillby remained silent but he had released a long breath. From what Sans could see, there was only a faint coil of smoke as opposed to before. He gave him an awkward grin when the fire monster didn’t interject and continued.

“and y’know… `cause even though it was rocky there for a bit, i, uh… i don’t think i would’ve been able to talk to him without your help. at least, not in such a short period of time,” Sans sighed and his posture slumped in humility. “so… thanks is what i’m gettin’ at, here. even if i haven’t really been the most cooperative lately.”

Grillby’s mouth curled into a kind smile and Sans lowered his gaze to the first button on his shirt again, a little embarrassed with the silence. He would’ve loved to move or for the conversation to switch to an easier topic.

Yet talking it out with the other chipped at his resolve and at the barrier inside, keeping his feelings at bay.

“actually… knowin’ me, i probably would’ve eventually let it slide. let it gnaw at me forever until i forgot about it. he… he doesn’t seem to be sorry. and when i think that, it pisses me off-” Sans stopped, his chest feeling tight when all of his emotions bubbled to the surface. “i shouldn’t be thinkin’ about him this way. he’s my brother; of course he’s sorry! i shouldn’t’ve said that. i gotta stop fixating on this.”

Grillby remained quiet, knowing that this was just a vent that the other desperately needed. It felt like Sans needed to say more but he was keeping it inside, only releasing it in little frustrated bursts when he exhaled.

“i’m ok,” the skeleton groused more to himself than the other, and Grillby could feel his hands squeeze his own, though he wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not.

What he _was_ sure of, however, was that Sans was not ok. The fact was evident when the other couldn’t meet his eyes, and had given up the ghost entirely by allowing his eye lights to fade out. He had seen the same darkened expression upon his leave after the search and could only imagine what kinds of self-deprecating thoughts the skeleton had in his head.

As though to burn away any doubt, Grillby leaned forward and rested his forehead against the other’s brow, gently turning his hands in Sans’ to pull the other closer. His soul was thrumming with sympathy when he heard a soft scoff pass the other’s teeth.

 _“It’s… alright to not be alright with things,”_ when not met with a reply, the fire monster allowed the magic in his left arm to fetter off in a mist of cyan-tinged flame. _“I know you’re… frustrated. Give it time. You know him better than anyone. I have seen you two at odds before, though it strengthens your bond, it does not make it any easier.”_

Sans dipped his skull with a shuddering inhale, shaking it from side to side in rejection. “i hate it. what if-”

 _“If you continue to belabour any variance of hypotheticals, I will have to prescribe exercise to vent off any more aggression,”_ Grillby interrupted, his voice stern. He felt Sans inwardly flinch and curl, as though the idea was so aberrant that his body rejected it entirely.

“not you too,” the skeleton muttered, sounding both dejected and amused.

 _“I only know what I’ve seen. And what I see is a certain monster in particular, of whom looks up to his brother and cares for him so much that he could not possibly find fault with him-”_ Grillby hesitated when Sans froze, eye sockets wide and dark. He felt a spark of magic twinge at his right hand this time, then ease when Sans relaxed, his eye lights returning. _“It’s… why it hurts so badly?”_

If he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he felt the exact moment when Sans broke. The slight twitch of his hands, the tension in his back. The faint sound of teeth grinding together - and a catch in the other’s breathing. He was sure he felt the emotions flooding through the other. Although it wasn’t anger, _Sans was upset enough to break the connection._

He did it automatically and without thinking, not minding the subtle way their magic crackled together at his hand in protest. Sans slung his arm around the other’s neck and pulled him close, the other side of the connection lost thanks to his dead arm as he buried his face into the other’s neck.

Meanwhile Grillby’s arm had flared up with the surge in energy, lighting his core so suddenly that his colours mixed in a confused array of oranges, balmy yellows and confused maroons. Sparks of white and azure floated in the air, giving breath to sharper contrasts of gold and silver in their wake as they blinked off in decay.

Severing the connection before the magic had been returned wasn’t harmful, but it left Grillby bewildered and confused for a short while until it was sorted out. In the meantime, it left Sans in a peculiar lightshow, pushing himself against the other in the tightest embrace he’d ever given someone outside of his own family.

As he finally calmed down and his fire was bickering softly for the inconsiderate gesture, Grillby blinked a few times to recollect himself as the world stopped shifting in bright colours and chaos. His glasses were askew and Sans was holding onto him tightly, one hand clutching at the back of his shirt while the other kept his left in a vice-like grip.

Sans was trembling and Grillby could feel the stuttered breaths ghosting against his neck, realising what was happening. The fire monster exhaled softly, untinged by smoke, and wrapped his free arm around the skeleton that clung so desperately against him, shaking as he tried to keep it all inside.

Although he didn’t know Papyrus as well as he did Sans, Grillby was sure that in the end it would work out. His soul strummed with empathy when the other sunk in and he found himself held closer. He rubbed the other’s back, leaning his head against the other’s to hold him as close as he was able to for support.

 _“Give it time,”_ he said softly, only to feel Sans’ body jerk as though it had been a threat instead of reassurance. Grillby knew his words held weight when he felt a silent sob against his shoulder and how Sans held him even tighter, burying his face against his shoulder. He knew how much his brother meant to him, after all, and his opinion and happiness was almost all the other spoke about. _“It’s alright. Let it out.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter because the point would not come and then oh god, Sans...............  
> He's fixated on quite a few things lately; the attack, the fallout with Papyrus, Grillby being ill (because of him), overstepping a personal barrier with the bf -- everything is just coming to a head and would be too much for anyone... :(
> 
> Some art I got for Postcards ;o; Thank you everyone! I cry every damn time. *weeping*  
> [thefloatingstone (c-puff)](https://thefloatingstone.tumblr.com/) on tumblr has made some FABULOUS art for ch 5 [here! Click here for the panicky Grillby!!! It's AMAZING!!!!!](http://skerbaderbadoo.tumblr.com/post/176281595102) (I forgot to link it last time;;;; )  
> [SnoweySoft](https://snoweysoft.tumblr.com/) drew a rendition of the bbq ribs scene in ch 32 (nsfw-ish? ... kinda. I guess not really blol;;;) which you can see [heeeeeere](https://skerbbie.tumblr.com/post/177242689555)!!!!  
> [moonshadow](http://moonshadow0.tumblr.com/) drew the Great Reveal in ch 30 (the cave date!) which you [can see here!!!!!!!!](https://skerbbie.tumblr.com/post/177144294315/)  
> [5h4d0w2](https://5h4d0w2.tumblr.com/) (aka [reineofaberrants on dA](https://www.deviantart.com/reineofaberrants)) drew some Sansby because of me e///U///e heehehhee [check it out here!!](https://skerbbie.tumblr.com/post/177144302825/)
> 
> I am blessed with so much fan art, you guys are amazing. ;U;!!!!! If you wanna @skerbaderbadoo on tumblr if you've drawn something, I totally wanna see 9u9 hehehe!!
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who reads this..!! I know I say it every update but I really do mean it... X))


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After coming back and getting texts from Alphys, Sans decides to visit her. Not before an awkward encounter with his brother, which leaves him bitter and restless. Sans reveals his discovery about his rebound to Alphys - and about his new attack.

Sans was embarrassed for succumbing to his emotions. He hated that his defenses had crumbled so easily and that Grillby was subjected to the broken connection as a result. He seemed alright, at least - or had no inclination of giving away that he’d been affected at all. The fire monster had held him, rubbing soothing circles into his back and shoulder as his emotions ripped through him. His frustrations and loathing from the whole situation had really taken a toll on his mind.

Eventually, Sans calmed down. He couldn’t look at Grillby, although he knew that the other was worried. He flinched when he received a kiss to the skull, then sunk down, wanting nothing but to forget that his breakdown had even happened. The tears would evaporate soon enough, but he hated the fact they had left him at all.

The silver lining was that the fire monster now looked a great deal better, even with the failed circulation. He was a little brighter, and although his flames were tinged with the odd tingle of Sans’ residual magic, he looked more awake and alert. If he concentrated hard enough, Sans could hear the usual brilliance of flame lick up and travel around his body before swooping over crests and crags as a normal fire would. Once a blaze got going, the more powerful it was, after all.

The same could be said for Grillby. Held and consoled quietly by him and being told that things would turn out for the better made Sans reflect on a few things that needed addressing. That was: he had been inadvertently avoiding his brother since the whole mess started apart from his apology, and when he recollected it, it made him feel bitter. Not once had he stopped to check his phone, so it was likely he had missed out on Papyrus’ messages.

His soul feeling heavy with the thought, the skeleton pulled his phone from his pocket to check, nestled against the now resting fire monster’s form. He felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the eight messages and read through them, every line driving the metaphorical knife deeper and deeper.

Papyrus (Last message received yesterday: 11:42pm);

\- THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME WHERE YOU ARE! THE HOUSE FEELS EMPTY WITH ONLY MYSELF, HOWEVER GREAT I AM, MY OWN COMPANY IS NEVER LACKING! BUT I NOTICE YOU’RE NOT HERE! AGAIN!  
\- THAT IS TO SAY, I’M NOT ENTIRELY LONELY OR ANYTHING! A CERTAIN QUADRUPEDAL NUISANCE WHICH SHALL REMAIN ANONYMOUS HAS DECIDED TO RAID OUR FOOD MUSEUM AND DESTROY YOUR ROOM FURTHER.  
\- IT’S A GOOD THING YOU AREN’T HERE. OTHERWISE YOU’D BE SUBJECTED TO THE HORROR OF VACUUMING LITTLE WHITE HAIRS FROM THE CRACKS OF DESPAIR AS WELL.  
\- I CERTAINLY HOPE YOU ARE DOING ALRIGHT, BROTHER. PLEASE ENSURE YOU ARE KEEPING WELL AND EATING RIGHT.  
\- WHILE I UNDERSTAND MISTER GRILLBY IS A PURVEYOR OF ALL THINGS SLIPPERY AND DISGUSTING AS FAR AS NUTRITION IS CONCERNED, YOU HAD PROMISED!  
\- TO TRY!  
\- AND I’M GLAD YOU’RE TRYING!  
\- PERHAPS MY MESSAGES ARE A BIT TOO LENGTHY AT THIS PARTICULAR CONJUNCTURE. I’LL ALLOW YOU YOUR ‘SPACE’.

Sans glared at his phone as the horrible feeling curled around his soul, pushing at his guilt. He gently nudged at Grillby, whose arms lay wrapped around him loosely as he slept on his side on the makeshift furniture-bed. He was met with no resistance as he shuffled off the edge of it and bent over to give the fire monster an appreciative hug.

“thanks, man,” he murmured softly. His soul heaved anxiously when Grillby moved in his sleep with a sigh, tiny flickers of flame briefly peeking up from his form before they settled again. Grinning awkwardly, Sans gave the other’s face a gentle pat and added, “you’re a huge help. i mean it. get better.”

As he regrettably drew away, Sans was sure that he saw Grillby gently nod, but decided not to linger. Instead, he picked up his discarded hoodie from the floor and made sure to bring out another bowl of chopped parscoals before he snuck downstairs. The bar’s smoke had cleared up somewhat, but ash littered the floor and surfaces around and Sans’ footsteps left a trail to the front door.

Leaving without using the fire exit was something peculiar and he was only glad his comings and goings didn’t seem to be as noteworthy lately. Dutifully, he zipped up his hoodie and pushed his hands into the familiar plush pockets, inhaling the crisp cold air outside after locking the door.

Despite the feelings he harboured for the fire monster, he couldn’t help but feel down. He knew he was being childish about it, but bringing up his concerns with his brother would only cheapen things; Papyrus would apologise because even if he thought it was merited, he would think it was something he ‘had’ to do, not something he _felt._ His pride wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise, despite the well-meaning gesture. So Sans decided it was probably for the best to give his brother space in that regard. Especially if he was made irritable with the little dog that passed through, if his hunch was correct.

Having not eaten and feeling worse for it, Sans stopped by the shop before heading home, treating himself to a cinnamon bunny for a pick-me-up. Oddly enough, he didn’t have much of an appetite, so after eating only half, the shop bunny offered to bag it for him. He read too much into that and groused internally, his thoughts souring. He wished he could stop thinking this way.

Eventually he made his way back to the porch of their house, staring at the door as though he was expecting it to fly off its hinges. Sans waited for what seemed like an eternity and then just exhaled, steam wafting into the air from his breath. He had to go inside. Even if his mind was telling him that he was avoiding his brother, he was sure it wasn’t a conscious effort. Sans still hated himself for it. Papyrus needed support, damn it.

Opening the door and finding no one inside, the skeleton huffed out a weary sigh, beelining straight for the couch. He noticed a new reply on the discarded sock but ignored it, his eye lights drawn to the television and the several notes that were mere copies of the texts he had just read on his phone.

Every one ignited an agitation within him and even pronounced the feeling that he was at fault. That Papyrus was still frustrated with him. That he wasn’t sorry. His thoughts muddled into darkness as he began to think about what his life would be like if they couldn’t make amends, or if Papyrus blamed him, or…

No. He was being irrational. Papyrus wasn’t like that. Breathing out a sigh against his hand, Sans slumped onto the couch and kicked off his shoes. He had to think about this logically.

After a pause, he groaned audibly, sure that Papyrus wasn’t home. He’d likely be out patrolling the forest or around town and wouldn’t be in for another hour if his sense of time was correct.

Just another hour.

Alone.

With his thoughts.

Suddenly the whole idea of this seemed like too much. He decided to turn on the television and watch around the notes instead of removing them, too exhausted by the days past to make any effort into getting up. Something loud and jarring was the perfect thing to cut through his thoughts until Papyrus came home, anyway.

Sans jolted from his place in front of the television, eye lights faded as the third or tenth episode of some MTT-branded show replayed on air. He wasn’t sure what had woken him or even when he had drifted off to sleep, yet knew the brief dream he had hadn’t been pleasant. Reaching beside him, Sans stretched as he felt the faint buzz from his pocket, signalling text messages.

He let them be for now, lurching off the side of the couch to beeline for the kitchen. Some chips and a spicy bun that Alphys had sent him were dinner enough as he scrolled through his phone to check on whomever was contacting him. It had been definitely longer than an hour and with the hunger pains gone, Sans just felt lethargic and gross.

Alphys (Last message received: 6:39pm);

\- Hey!!!!! How is our illustrious escape artist!?! (´・ω・｀)  
\- I hope it was ok that I told your brother about the barrier thing… Not figuring why you were over there or how I knew you were, I think you already know!! (∿°○°)∿  
\- He really did sound shaken up about the whole thing… (´。＿。｀) I don’t know how he got it into his head that it was dangerous…?  
\- In fact, I’m pretty sure he knows about your ♥*♡+:｡.｡.-~ delayed event~- .｡.｡:+♡*♥ so he should know the signs by now? ( >ლ )  
\- Ohh!!! OH OH SANS ARE YOU MAKING SURE TO OUTLET  
\- THIS MIGHT BE OLD NEWS BUT CYCLING YOUR ENERGY ACTUALLY HELPS WITH THE AGGRESSION  
\- tHAAAAAT IS if you are still experiencing it (´。＿。｀) it’s been awhile since I’ve had a scan, but I realise you might not actually want another one done for… … …. a long time, at least! ( *´罒`* ) which I understand!

*hey  
*that might not b a bad idea  
*the scan i mean  
*pap isnt here n bf wasnt feelin 2 good earlier so  
*just got back  
*been  
*oops been actually wrestlin w/ sumthin  
*also i need a coupla books back if thats ok

\- OH yeah for sure!! Actually I was thinking, well…

*sup

\- I might’ve… found a little ~*something*~ that your brother had intended you to see? It was in ‘Magical Bodies & The Housed Soul’ so I sincerely doubt you had even touched that one!  
\- That one is actually rEALLY IMPORTANT????

*well i know that now

\- ALSO I made a kawaii~~ emoji for you! →  
\- ( ◡ㅂ⚈ ) hi i’m snas teh skelton wo cant b bothrd 2 spel lolz not enuf tiem 4 dat

*welp  
*ngl thats p spot on  
*kinda feel called out rn tho

\- I KNOW!!! (◡ ω ◡) THE LIKENESS IS UNCANNY!!

*its a veritable chasm of uncanniness

\- Rude!!  
\- So when are you planning on stopping by? ( ಸ‿ಸ)

*nows ok rite  
*im just waitin around

\- Yeah yeah peel on by and I’ll have some food ready ( UωU)b

Sans huffed. Well, that went easier than expected. Deciding it was easier to talk with Alphys directly than hint as to what had happened at Grillby’s with his brother when he got back, he shuffled into his shoes, tying them tightly, then grabbed his rucksack to carry said book home again.

He could speak with Alphys about the things that had happened between him and Grillby, maybe even the stuff with Papyrus… and the incident in Waterfall, and who was responsible for his rebound. Suddenly he wasn’t sure if he should or not. Not without asking Papyrus about it anyway.

Regardless, the needling ache in his soul told him that he’d have to, at the very least, ask for ‘that’ book. About souls. About _bonding._ He gulped, suddenly unsure. That, and she wanted another scan.

Well, best to get all the unpleasantness done with in one shot…

As he made to leave, the door’s handle jolted and Sans froze when he saw his brother on the other side when it opened. He had opted for his battle body by the looks of it and looked quite shocked at seeing him. Sans tried to grin as convincingly as he possibly could, but he saw the distracted look in the other’s sockets despite his brother’s upturned grin.

“hey, bro,” he said automatically as he side-stepped to allow Papyrus inside. When the other gave him a penetrating look, Sans shuffled on the spot, suddenly uncomfortable. Why, when he looked that way, did he remind him of someone else entirely…?

 _You’re avoiding him again,_ his thoughts chastised him, even if it was purely coincidental. He couldn’t cancel on Alphys, since she likely had cleared her schedule for him. She would take it too hard. Sans flinched when Papyrus coughed as though to clear the tension.

“YOU’RE LEAVING!?” he said finally, sounding aghast.

Sans stuffed his hands into his hoodie’s pockets and shrugged with a weary grin. “alph has somethin’ for me. i shouldn’t be gone long, eh… maybe overnight. can’t say. doin’ a scan,” he found himself offering up any multitudes of excuses so that Papyrus wouldn’t feel bad, but he saw the way his brother was hurt.

“BUT IT’S TOO LATE!!”

Sans forced himself not to react with the words; although not accusatory in the least, they felt like a punch to the chest. He grinned awkwardly and shrugged. “it’s kinda a last-minute thing.”

“OH… WELL, I _SUPPOSE_ THAT IS PERMISSIBLE,” Papyrus said while rubbing a smudge from his glove almost distractedly. Sans tried to not allow it to affect him so much and merely shrugged, easing his posture into his usual slump. “I SUPPOSE IF YOU WANT TO CATCH THE FERRY, YOU’D BEST BE ON YOUR WAY!”

Sans continued to force his grin, his hand creeping out to tighten against his rucksack as he bit back a flare-up of anger. God, why was he being like this? Was it actually the aggression, or was it because he was just feeling bitter?

He pushed the anger down and exhaled a breath to calm himself. Then he threw an arm around Papyrus’ shoulder and yanked him into an abrupt hug.

“love ya, bro. i won’t be long. sorry i didn’t reply to your texts. you’re the best.” Sans meant it, burying the ugly feeling in his soul as Papyrus stood still. His arms didn’t reach up to envelop Sans like he always did, not until when he drew away, hurt but smiling. “i mean it,” he added more emphatically, giving the other’s skull a brisk pat of reassurance.

Papyrus grinned at him and affectionately bopped his skull in return, inwardly delighted with his brother’s laugh despite the feeling that something _just_ wasn’t right. When Sans left, he stood alone in the house for the third day in a row, unsure of what to do.

“SEE YOU LATER…” he sighed at the door.

* * *

Sans sat on the ferry, clutching his bag with phalanges so tight that he was at risk of tearing the fabric in half. He glared at the river person's back, their body poised at the fore of the craft as it darted across the waters in unmoving silence.

Sans’ eye lights drifted up to the expansive caverns above, recalling the memory of how the end of his and Grillby’s first date had gone. The fire monster had sensed something in the cave ceiling and was agitated on the way back… Surely the events couldn’t be connected in any way?

He had mentioned vines.

As though the thought brought on a familiar sensation, Sans flinched when he felt something snap under his clothes. He doubled over where he sat and clutched at his sternum with a wheeze, feeling the bones under his fingers clench and the unmistakable twist of pain lurch within his soul.

The ferry didn’t stop and the pain eventually subsided. Shaking and breathing harshly, Sans slowly released his grasp from his sternum and pulled his hoodie’s collar away from his chest to inspect below his clothes. Apart from the subtle glow of his soul pulsing rapidly in panic, his ribs showed no signs of injury nor the phantom pain brought on by the recollection.

He exhaled a slow breath to calm down and looked up to his travel companion, who did not utter a word, nor even acknowledged anything had been out of place. They merely stared out into the abyss as the craft plunged through Waterfall, then into the familiar smell and heat of Hotland.

Sans was only too ready to disembark the craft when it stopped, thankful at least for no surprises. No vines or sudden shifts in the water. He honestly wondered if there was a connection or not.

The Underground was shrinking around him. So much in fact that he felt smaller than before, longing for more space. He lifted his face, looking into the high hazy caverns of Hotland, how the stalactites far above only whispered into the heat as it wafted up. The colour that mirrored off the rusty red earth around him clung to the dry heat, obscuring things above.

Maybe one day, he thought. One day they’d get out, but it was unlikely it would be in _his_ lifetime. There was a kind of hopelessness in that passing thought and the skeleton huffed a sigh, pushing the yearning away. He honestly had enough on his plate without adding claustrophobia to the mix.

Trudging through the dirt path to the lab, Sans shouldered his bag uneasily as he approached the heavyset doors. It felt like a lifetime since he’d last been here to return Alphys’ device and then pass through the CORE to fetch Papyrus.

He shuddered at the thought and immediately rapped at the door in order to force some interaction. He couldn’t dwell on that. _That_ hadn’t been Papyrus’ fault at all. Too many things were on his mind lately, and with his brother’s expulsion from the Guard, losing a friend, the fight, the argument…

He was on the verge of a dejected sigh when a familiar face greeted him. He gave in to his usual smile, hunching his shoulders when Alphys ushered him into the lab. She was all questions, of course, yet Sans was stuck in his head, a pinwheel of worry and theories whirling about until she rather abruptly snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“what? sorry,” he automatically said, realising he had been standing in the doorway for longer than what was probably acceptable in the heat.

Alphys gave him a nervous look and took him by the arm, pulling him inside so the sweltering heat of the outdoors didn’t leech into the cool lab.

He followed as if on automatic, letting his bag drop by her desk, allowing her to shove him into the familiar computer chair.

“S-so…?”

He blinked at her in confusion, then hunched his shoulders again, easing back onto the chair and idly swivelling.

“...so.”

Alphys gaped at him. “W-what’s going on?? You’re a… a total spacecase!”

Sans grinned and pulled his hand up to scratch at his sternum thoughtfully, the memory of the fleeting pain still fresh on his mind. “aw. you know how the stars light up my life,” he retorted, grinning at his own joke. “sorry. was just kinda… puttin’ things together in the ol’ skull space.”

The doctor sighed, the tension not leaving her shoulders for even one moment. “I… guess you’ve had a rough time?” she asked tentatively, to which Sans infuriatingly shrugged at. “What happened? Why, when… they were, um, searching for you?”

The skeleton grimaced, preventing himself from shrugging if only because he became aware of the gesture the more that he thought about it. With a deep inhale, he scanned the possible reasons as to why Alphys had known - but came to the conclusion that she had likely seen him in front of the Ruins door’s herself with her cameras. It didn’t fit into how she knew ‘they’ were searching for him for whatever reason, but he could put two and two together.

He explained it as delicately as he could, mentioning having an argument with Papyrus, but not the specifics. He wanted to get all his facts straight, and he _definitely_ wanted to take a look at her recordings of Snowdin if she still had them.

She leaned back on a chair pulled from the monitoring system and sighed heavily, giving him an examining look. Her eyes squinted at him from behind her glasses and Sans merely shrugged again, knowing that his explanation was full of holes. She didn’t need to know the specifics, nor that Papyrus’ friend was involved.

“H-how’s your aggression?” she inquired suddenly, shuffling a few loose papers on a pile at her desk when she came over. “Any… any sudden weaknesses, spikes in flux-matrix reserves? No fevers, chills, burns?”

Sans grinned a little sourly. “nothin’ like that. haven’t had any real…” he trailed off, “well, actually… a bit this afternoon. after i got back from g’s, when papyrus got back, it just spiked, but i dunno if that’s `cause i’m upset or `cause of the whole…” He gestured vaguely, still sore about the subject. “delay.”

“I, I can’t believe you two fought like you did. It doesn’t make any sense,” she mumbled as she sorted through more papers. Sans watched her but said nothing in reply as she flipped over stacks of binders and rummaged through drawers.

“i’m keepin’ things on the dl,” the skeleton finally muttered. “kinda glad that i found out what happened when you had to come down, but it played out kinda… bad.”

“Bad?? H-how so?”

Sans mentally smacked himself and hesitated. He guessed he wasn’t keeping this under wraps, after all. But if there was anyone he trusted more in the entire Underground than his own brother, Alphys was the monster to speak to about this kind of thing.

“uh,” he started quietly, “the rebound was actually spurred by an interference.”

She stopped and looked at him, fear flashing in her eyes. When she didn’t say anything in response, Sans noticed the way her hands were shaking.

“yeah. uh, you remember what it felt like in the lab? it’s kinda still there. the malintent. memory’s still spotty as hell, but i clearly remember someone comin’ in, me panickin’, and-” He stopped; now that he thought about it, he didn’t tell Alphys about the new attack. “-i blasted `em durin’ the ignition sequence.”

“B.. blasted?”

Sans grinned, suddenly feeling a little excited. In fact, it was the most excited he’d felt in a long while. He was sure his maturation had something to do with how his emotions were all over the place lately, but he waved a hand at her a little dismissively.

“ok. well, this’s gonna sound dumb, but… i kinda figured out a new attack? it manifested that afternoon, and that’s the reason for the avalanche when i tried to output that day, and…” He struggled with how to phrase it, raising a hand to scratch at the side of his skull. “it’s kinda huge. an’ couplin’ that with the box ignition, that’s what fried me, i guess.”

Alphys lowered the binder she had been holding, attention rapt. Her glasses seemed to gleam with interest. He laughed shortly, hunching into his hoodie with an uncomfortable grin as he swivelled his chair again.

“c’mon, alph. didn’t your `rents ever tell ya starin’s rude?”

“I-I-I’m lookin’ for my scanner with renewed curiosity!! I _h-have_ to see what’s going on!” she suddenly tittered, barrelling over a few stray piles as she rounded the corner of the desk and upturned everything in sight. “I have to! This is… gosh, this is so exciting, Sans-”

“glad to hold your interest.”

“D-don’t be cheeky! Was tha… actually no, you said you’d done it before, let’s see… fif-fifteen days ag-”

“focus, alph,” he reminded her quietly, wanting to get the scan over and done with as soon as possible, “maybe we can get to that a different time-”

“Wh… right!! Who was it that interrupted you!?” She suddenly rounded on him, too close for comfort that Sans tensed and pressed his back against the chair.

His eye lights remained steady but inside he felt out of control. His soul was trembling and for a moment he wanted to pour everything out - but he knew she would overreact, report it to the Guard, to the _King,_ and he didn’t need the authorities involved. Not when Papyrus was in the thick of it by association.

“i don’t know `em,” he replied carefully, staring at her intensely. “even if they did or didn’t hurt me-”

“B-but they _did,_ Sans! This is an ex.. extremely _huge_ deal! We need to report any instance of that sort of intent. Especially since you-”

“got only one hp, alph. you know the deal. m’not riskin’ mine or pap’s way of life again for any reason. i told you because i trust you,” he said firmly, each word careful and precise. There was an intensity in his gaze that Alphys faltered under and he slouched his shoulders, realising the veiled threat that passed his teeth. Sombrely, he watched as she lowered her binder to the desktop. “sorry. can’t risk it.”

“B.. but, Sans!” she said helplessly, wringing her claws together. The movement gripped at him guiltily, regretting saying anything at all. “What if they t-target others? Wh-who could, um, could do such a thing…?”

“i mean it, alphys. an investigation like this would… get out what i am. if the guard’s involved, i’d be under scrutiny. we’re finally in a place where we can be chill and have a good life. i can work. we can leave all that behind. i don’t wanna have to move again. the first time was hard enough on papyrus. it’s bad enough i can’t go to the capital without feelin’ everyone’s eyes on me.”

If Alphys was convinced, she hid it well. Her claws were shaking and she was picking at her nails, her eyes searching mindlessly in front of her as she mentally weighed the pros and cons.

“I… I need to know who then. A n-name.”

“don’t got a name,” Sans replied stubbornly; at least, with his brother’s penchant for giving cute nicknames when he didn’t recall introductions aside, he _really_ doubted the golden plant’s name was _Flowery._ It seemed a little _too_ on the nose. “but, even if i hit `im, he’s either injured or keepin’ away, just how i want. i don’t want to live under threat, alph. not from people blowin’ whistles about falling down and not whisperin’ behind my back. i didn’t get any exp, so you don’t have to report any love-gain to the higher-ups. let’s just… leave it how it is for now.”

Her silence spoke volumes instead and even in the thick of it, Sans felt guilty. He knew what this would do to her, but he had still acted to tell her. He didn’t imply Papyrus’ involvement in his explanation, at least.

As though breaking through a sudden rush of nerves, the doctor sighed heavily, removing her glasses to rub at her eyes. “F-fine. I… I won’t. But! If, if it happens again-” Sans looked up with her warbling tone and saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “I won’t hesitate!”

The skeleton shrugged uncomfortably, looking down to his hands. “keep track on your cameras for any activity around snowdin an’ waterfall then, if it makes you happy,” he said quietly, knowing he was being unreasonable.

Alphys sighed, her breath sharp as though she was mentally preparing herself for the next round of conversation. “Now… I want to see this ‘special attack’!!” she sniffled, a nervous yet curious glint in her eyes when she replaced her glasses. “But not until a-after I get that scan!!”

Sans grimaced, sinking against the chair like a scolded child. Experiments and demonstrations meant going below.

Into the True Laboratory.

The set up for the scan mercifully didn’t take long - in fact, Alphys cleared off a long table in her search for the tablet and had Sans sit at the chair at its side. She hooked a few things into the device, cords that led from the scanner to a printer, and she fiddled with a few settings and switches on it. Being made to wait for the examination made Sans feel restless, swivelling his chair and rubbing at his legs to filter through his unease.

Then she simply held it up. It was just long enough to snap the register of his soul and he felt the manufactured Check and shrank against the back of the chair. It took only a few seconds for the printer to start up, with whirring and cracking whines of the ribbon printing and paper being fed through the machine in a racket.

Sans glared at the device and idly rubbed at his chest, wondering if he should ask if phantom pains were a sign of something going wrong, or if it was part of the process of him simply maturing. He decided that thought was ridiculous and pushed it away, focusing on the now: Alphys humming to herself while she was pouring over the reports.

“how’s it lookin’, doc?” the skeleton mumbled, smirking to himself. “am i gonna live?”

Alphys jerked with a start at his bad joke and whirled to face him, her yellow scales definitely paler. “Wh-wh… what do you-!?”

“easy. was just a bad joke,” Sans sighed, raising his hands in a placating gesture. She settled somewhat, but her grip was unnaturally fast on the stack of paper she held. “sorry.”

The other gave him a worried look, which didn’t make Sans feel any better about the scan. He craned his skull to get a look over her shoulder and she held it at an angle so he could see, too.

“Flux levels positive, base HP is static,” she murmured, likely more to herself than actually to him. Sans’ grin tilted down in a frown as his eye lights moved over the page, the readings making very little sense. It looked more like coding than anything else and he sighed, pushing back against the chair as she listed more things off.

“MAT… There it is, maturation rate is at 96.39 percent!” she said, a lilt to her voice that betrayed her glee. “W-wow! Such a jump from last time! And… and no sign of the burn, the suppressants have decayed, a-and…? Um? Well, hold on…?”

Sans tensed visibly, craning over Alphys’ shoulder so he could see. “what?” He put a hand on her shoulder to steady himself at the angle and she jumped.

“Sans…?” her voice seemed almost reproachful and he grinned awkwardly, his soul thrumming in trepidation. “There… s-seems to be corruption in y-your, um… right arm?”

He grimaced excusingly. “tried helpin’ g with, uh… cyclical energy. he hasn’t really been feelin’ too hot, so, uh…” He slid his hand from her shoulder and shrugged, leaning back again. “`course, we couldn’t finish the rotation, and it broke off. is it bad?”

“W-well, no…” She tittered nervously, helping in no such way to ease Sans’ discomfort. “There is a buildup of m-magic a-at, well? Here-” She paused to tap his right shoulder and he veiled his flinch with a short laugh. “It.. It’ll dissipate in time, but otherwise the scan is normal!! Which is, um? Very good news??”

The skeleton eased back once Alphys withdrew her hand, resuming his swivelling. He could’ve sighed in relief, if not for the looming threat of going below. And below meant a few unpleasant interactions; firstly, it was where the bulk of his recovery had taken place after his fall into the CORE. Secondly, since his recovery had spurred a few theories for the young and newly instated royal scientist, her… _patients_ were still left downstairs.

It wasn’t lost on Sans how close he’d come to sharing their fate and every time he came into contact with them, he couldn’t help but feel he was to blame for their condition. He could still hear Alphys’ rattling, frantic sobs in his memory from when he’d stumbled across a few stray documents on her desk after coming by to get a few things that he and Papyrus had left behind. It hadn’t been long after he was ousted from his bed, so he was still unstable and limping from his right leg’s fresh attachment.

He very clearly remembered the limbs tingling unpleasantly whenever he applied weight to them. The elevator ride was a godsend - but that was the end of the universe’s graces. What met him below was a horror beyond any measure he’d ever witnessed before. The sound, the dense, congealing mass of rambling monster forms with their combined wails-

As it was now, Alphys led him to the long elevator ride to the lower levels, the soft hum of the elevator drowning out the low drone of the amalgamates below.

Sans drew in a shuddering breath as the lab’s air cooled around them, pinching at the residual memories from long ago.

He could do this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans shows Alphys his 'new attack'. For a moment, it seems like time stands still.

He definitely remembered the elevator trip being a lot shorter, or at the very least, it had been faster. The low drone echoed in the shaft they descended through with Alphys tapping things out on her phone while Sans bunched his hands in his pockets.

“didn’t, uh… didn’t remember the ride down bein’ so long.”

Alphys looked up from the light of her screen for a moment and shrugged to herself. “Um, past CORE flare ups have made the… the circuitry dodgy at best. S-sorry. It’s, um, not much further.”

“oh. o-ok, gotcha.”

His breath was starting to pick up. It was silly how unravelled he felt despite it being a regular test. It wasn’t as though he was going to endure surgery or anything - that was ridiculous. But it reminded him in many ways of the handful of occasions when Papyrus had been pulled away by other things during his recovery, and Alphys had urged him to cooperate despite him being distressed. Apart from one time before, when he went below on his own.

His breath caught again and he squared his shoulders, attempting to remain calm when the elevator lurched at each passing floor. Some levels had gone into disrepair, but the basement level had the highest ceiling and a lot of storage. Enough to muffle sound. Perfect for practising attacks.

Sans gulped, shifting as he leaned against one side of the tiny room that made him feel light-headed and queasy. His soul’s thrumming was resonating quicker and quicker, until he felt a hand touch his arm.

He jumped, magic coalescing at his left eye socket when he snapped his skull to the other’s direction.

“E-easy, Sans,” Alphys said reassuringly, offering a kind and hopeful smile. Sans could see how disheartened she looked at the same time and let his shoulders slump, forcing out a shuddering sigh. “Don’t, um, let yourself go back to then. O-ok?”

Sans nodded in silence, twisting the fabric in his pockets. If truth be told, he was starting to have second thoughts about going downstairs. But then it was too late, wasn’t it? He had already told Alphys that he had a new attack, and as someone whose magic reserves manifested so late in life and even if he was considered ‘fragile’, it wasn’t as though he could put it off. It was important. He had promised that he would _try_ to take better care of himself. He would’ve preferred to have more time to warm up to the idea, at least.

But, no. He had to go through with it.

Alphys was sombre as the elevator finally stopped with a sickening lurch, sending Sans’ breath to stuttering as his poor nerves could barely take being confined for so long. He nearly barrelled out of the doors when they opened, his arms so taut and his body so rigid that Alphys seemed like the perfect picture of composure by comparison.

How he had managed to come down here on his own the evening his jaw unfused was beyond him. Perhaps it was because he was now dealing with everything at once, he figured. The doctor lingered while he took a moment to compose himself, the gritty tiles leading into the overcast, dully lit room ahead sending a shock of memory through his body.

The lack of light really wasn’t helping.

“h-hey, alph-” He immediately stopped, shocked at how choked his voice sounded. “uh, sorry, uh, is… is there a light we can turn on, or…?”

For a moment he saw a shambling mass in the corner of his vision and froze, then stared at the spot until it backed away. He knew this was the place where many of the monsters that had Fallen Down were kept, but he hadn’t seen anyone apart from the dogs before…

His soul twisted in a sympathetic way and his eye lights faded out, despite Alphys’ phone giving off a bright enough light to chase off the shadows.

He drew in an apprehensive breath, his voice stiff when he spoke; “`preciate it.”

Alphys huddled close to him as they walked, past the beds that once held unresponsive patients, now empty and dusty with age. Sans felt tremors passing through him with every step, and although Alphys tried to calm him by distracting him with idle chatter, he felt he couldn’t focus.

“...and, it’s not as though the Merceroy Plains didn’t exist in the first place, it’s just that I don’t, um, have any records based off excavation into the xenolithic formations. Th.. they’re dodgy when centred around Hotland-”

She was talking passionately about something; something he couldn’t focus on. Sans shook his head and came to a stop near the bend in the hallway past the beds, stuck in repeating thoughts. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to get away, but his feet were planted to the floor. He could hear scraping far off like tools on a metal table and his limbs twitched to escape their threat.

His breath hitched again when he heard a voice almost flood him entirely, soon drowned out into the familiar female tone in front of him.

“S-Sans!” She was holding his hand and arm tightly. He fixated on it, realising he had been holding his breath. That, and tears were collected in his sockets and he was rocked with fear.

“Co.. come on, follow me,” the little doctor urged gently, her hold releasing from his arm. Yet she kept his hand in her claw for reassurance. “We’ll go relax in a calm place! Play music! H-have some chips! M-make fun of cheesy movies!!”

Sans tried to take comfort in the fact she had essentially stopped his panic in its tracks as she led him down the eastern wing, walking with purpose despite how his fears tried to creep up inside of him anew.

When had be become such a coward, Sans wondered. Gingerly, he rubbed his hand over his face and inhaled sharply when Alphys suddenly stopped in front of him.

“sorry, heh. guess i’m a little… rattled,” he offered lamely. Alphys shot him a grimace that looked as though she was having trouble deciding whether or not she should laugh. She gave his skeletal hand a friendly squeeze instead and he sighed, comforted by the action.

“It’s ok! I.. I get like that too, sometimes. I know how it is! You… you can’t just bottle things up forever and think it, um… it’ll turn out ok. B-because! It’ll just…?” She let go of his hand and splayed out hers in an animated shrug. “I, um… I don’t know what I’m saying, obviously. Ch-chips?”

“gimme.”

She chuckled at that, at least. While Sans was standoffish, Alphys watched the subtle hints of his unease. She had opted for the eastern wing instead of the west, where he had recovered and where the majority of the amalgamated monsters aggregated. It would be easier on him, and he wouldn’t feel… what was the word? Put out on display? Exposed? Even if the process couldn’t be reversed, they were _still_ monsters. Sans would still feel uncomfortable performing experimental attacks in front of them, to be sure.

She tossed a bag of salty chips his way and he gave her his usual grin in silent thanks. While they snacked, Alphys searched through the UnderNet for more posts about the upcoming movie she was interested in and even showed Sans the few trailers floating around.

Eventually, he calmed down. Having something to focus on really helped and despite his innermost thoughts working against him, Sans found Alphys’ company comforting. After they had finished their chips, she led Sans down another corridor, one he recognised that he had visited often. Back then, Sans had been in a wheelchair or on his brother’s back for the most part - until he could walk on his own again.

He froze when he saw the familiar set up: a long desk with a padded chair rolled up to it and some rows of filing cabinets that had seen better days. Next to the cabinets and on the opposite side of the desk were some wide wardrobes whose interiors housed medical equipment, and next to those were a couple of refrigerators, of which he knew contained aether fluids.

“Easy,” she said gently.

“n.. no doctors,” he whispered, his trembling starting up anew.

“I, I only need a sensor hooked up, Sans! Easy-peasy,” she said, dismissing his plea and giving him her best convincing smile, even though it wavered. “Why don’t you, um… sit?”

She gestured to the chair and even spun it around for him when it took all of his courage to approach it. Once upon the less than comfortable cushion, Sans drew in a shuddering breath and squeezed his eye sockets closed, willing himself to be strong enough for it.

When he reopened them, he saw Alphys unwinding a simple wire attached to a round thin pad without apparent care. She had learned to handle such things in a rough manner around him - at least, while he was conscious. It was as though her lack of care for the objects made him feel better for it. It was like she detested them as much as he did, even though he knew that it wasn’t the case.

Sans exhaled a harsh breath, then immediately unzipped his hoodie. “i hate this, y’know that, right?” he muttered sourly.

“If a simple Checkscan could show me all the data I needed, I… we wouldn’t need to do this,” she said, matter-of-fact. “Are you going to be ok?”

“i’m gonna need a few more letters than just those two,” Sans countered, eyeing up the wire in her grasp. “preferably enough to spell out a few of my favourite swears.”

“It’s just a sensor!”

“i know that,” he hissed, letting the hoodie drop to the floor. Then he hooked his thumb behind his shirt collar and flipped it over his skull so his rib cage was completely bare. Remembering how other sensory tests went, he clasped his hands behind his head, glaring at the equipment around him with his arms raised. It prevented him from lashing out if things felt like they were proving to be too difficult to handle in his panic.

Additionally, it provided an adequate reach to his sternum. Due to the exercises he was going to be doing, he couldn’t just leave his soul in her grasp in case of an emergency. So as a result, the wires were several feet long and plenty flexible to remain intact while he moved.

He felt a trickle of fear crawl up his spine when Alphys approached with it and she gave his sternum a hard knock, giving him a jolt.

“ok, i need to buy a vowel.”

Alphys giggled, “J-just one?”

“maybe fffive-- _fuck!”_

Although Alphys had been swift due to her experience, Sans had not properly prepared himself. In fact, the jokes were a way of deflecting just how uncomfortable he was and his eye lights darted around his sockets, taking in every detail of her face.

He felt her claws touch the underside of his ribs and he jerked in response, his breath catching in panic.

“That, um, only leaves you with four letters,” she replied, trying to distract him.

He flinched and clenched his teeth in preparation, his hands tightening behind his skull. “g-glad you’re k.. keepin’ track, alph. you’re a, aah… great fffriend-”

“You’re doing great!” she congratulated and offered him a toothy grin. When he dragged in a few panicked breaths, pausing between each one, she felt her own soul twist in sympathy. “C-count back from ten for me?”

Sans closed his eye sockets and straightened his spine in preparation, the sound of bones rattling between them jarring on his senses. He held his breath and then released it, trying to calm down, trying not to freak out any more than he already was.

“ten,” he gasped out, then added quickly, “i hate this.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Alphys sympathised.

“nine - y.. you know what would be great?” Sans’s voice shivered despite his efforts to remain calm.

“Wh.. what’s that?”

“ei.. eight… if, y’know… m-maybe you could, make a thing,” the skeleton bartered, “s-seven - you’re good makin’ th-things-”

Alphys hummed to herself as she reached further into Sans’ rib cage. Now that he had calmed down enough to bargain, she felt the rapid pulse of his magic radiate out from his soul as her hand approached.

“may.. maybe we c-c-could, uh-” The stammering was becoming almost unintelligible and Alphys tried to giggle again to soothe his worries, but it felt a little forced.

“You missed, um, count… i mean, a number,” she said distractedly, eyeing the glowing organ behind his ribs with a look of concentration.

“s, six-” He shivered and grinded his teeth together when he felt the unmistakable pressure on his soul, of _someone touching it,_ panic spiking beyond what he could bear. His breaths started to come in stuttered and short, and despite how quickly Alphys’ hands had secured the pad to his soul for her readings, it still felt like some kind of horrible violation.

“Sans, I… I’m finished,” she tried softly, showing her hands in front of his face in a gesture of peace. His rib cage continued to rise and fall, jumping slightly when he hiccoughed in between, the low light of his soul flickering with his panic. “Sans!”

The skeleton nodded meekly, keeping his eye sockets clenched. His hands had clasped over his wrists and were locked into place while his spine trembled under stress.

“Easy, you’re o-ok!” Alphys had already regretted placing the monitoring sensor on him, but it was crucial to the readings she required. She rubbed the bones of his shoulders, taking care to carefully unwrap his phalanges from around his wrists and bring his arms down. “See, you’re fine! F-fit as a-”

“god.. god _damn_ it,” he winced as he hung his head in his hands.

Alphys allowed him to recover while she rubbed along his back, her claws making soft clicking noises against his vertebrae and shoulder blades. Gradually his breaths deepened, until he was able to lift his skull, sheepishly wiping at his sockets with one hand.

“m’ok,” he offered lamely, turning his head when Alphys offered his hoodie. “thanks.”

Donning his hoodie, even with the sensor attached to him, was more soothing than it should’ve been. He watched and even scooted closer when Alphys inputted the other end of the wire into the receiver and started flipping on a few settings from her phone. A soft computerised hum sounded from the machine and although Sans didn’t feel a thing, he felt on edge.

“Ok to go ahead now?” Alphys asked, letting Sans get familiarised with the equipment again. She tapped through a few screens that showed his current emotional levels, his magic stability, and a projected image of his soul. As though doing so automatically, the skeleton rubbed over his sternum, the itch under his rib cage a little distracting.

“sure.”

“A, a new attack!” she tried again, pumping herself up. “This is really ex.. exciting! Go, now - off of the chair - and go stand by that end, and? Face the room, y-you should have loads of space.”

Sans walked the ten or so feet away from her, glowering at the tether to his soul. Since it wasn’t necessarily medical equipment, he could more easily ignore it now. It was difficult to get used to the weight of it, but Alphys’ distraction was making it tolerable. He gave her a grin as he stuffed his right hand into his pocket to pluck at the lining.

“So! W-what does it look like?”

“uh…” Sans had to think on that. In fact, out of the three times he had performed the attack, not once had he looked at the construct above him. In fact, was he even certain that it _had_ been a construct? Sheepishly, he scratched at the side of his jaw and grinned excusingly. “no idea.”

“You don’t-?” Alphys stopped, deadpan. Her shoulders hunched and she had a finger poised over her phone’s touchscreen. “HOW!?”

He grimaced and laughed, “i dunno, man! i just kind of…?” Sans gestured a bit vaguely with his free hand and shrugged. “it, uh… wasn’t really a conscious thing.” She face-palmed and shook her head at his feeble excuse. “hey, now. i recall, uh…”

Experimentally, he focused on the air above him, yet it felt claustrophobic. Too constraining. He hummed to himself and adjusted his stance, feeling a little too put on the spot. He paced, mindful of the wire, and drew in a few deep breaths to calm down.

His left arm was tingling, collecting magic all the way down so it gathered around his metacarpals. With it brought on a mild flicker in the lights and he looked up, the dim buzz above them as the tube bulbs fizzed with the surge in energy.

“whoa.”

“H, how do you, um… feel?” Alphys asked from her end of the table. “Any nausea, burning, chills…?”

Sans considered it for a moment as the magic continued to collect. “hm. nothin’ like that,” he said with a shrug. “i’ve kinda always been… i dunno, frustrated when it happened? or at the very least, desperate.”

“Desperate…” came the echo from his friend. “How so?”

Sans flicked his hand, the cyan wisps of magic curling around his digits and drifting into the air around him. The hues bounced off the gritty floor and into the high ceiling, elongating their shadows into the corners of the room. He inhaled a deep breath in preparation and rose his hand, things catching his attention as he did so.

The chair trembled with what felt like a disturbance in the air. There was a particular drain in the atmosphere like a deep-seated thrum, like the echo of the world’s heartbeat all around them. Despite his efforts, he was losing the grip on the collected magic and in his haste, threw his fist into the air to expel it from his body.

The blaze of magic from his left socket spilled out, colouring his vision with his hues. A low rumbling droned over him along with a crushing weight he’d never noticed before. Prickles danced over his shoulders as he turned his attention to his companion, who remained frozen in place.

“Wh…”

A low pitched, guttural growl lingered above him along with a heat that emanated from what he had conjured. Sans carefully adjusted his position and looked up, his soul thundering at the massive construct.

“N-n-no w-wonder you burned out!” was Alphys’ tiny gasp. She remained frozen in place.

Sans whistled lowly, stepping out from its shadow and backing off a bit to get a closer look. He was shaking a little from the exertion of keeping it manifested. It was less of a drain than actual… _activity,_ he would say, but it still tugged on his reserves. He heaved a deep breath to replenish the odd little giddiness of seeing the attack for the first time.

All the while, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d seen its appearance _somewhere_ before, despite having never looked at it.

While skeletal in nature, just as his bone constructs were, it also appeared unstable. Magic dripped from its maw, seething with a white-hot glow that was gradually collecting as it loomed in the air. It appeared to be a skull of some sort of monster Sans had never seen before, its large orbits filled with mist-like lights that hazed around as it watched, unblinking. It was cracked, showing it was much older than it should’ve looked, deep gouges scoring the bone in uniform marks with protruding horns at either side of its body.

Then the teeth. Sans was sure they _were_ teeth, although they weren’t fangs or anything like his own. They were uneven, pointed and deadly, jagging up and down from its open maw like so many needles, collected into groups to merely _look_ like animalistic fangs.

Sans remained quiet as he looked over every detail. He… had made this? Weren’t bullets and attacks supposed to reflect the innate state of a monster’s soul?

He wasn’t sure how to process that. He wasn’t expecting something he made to look so… _powerful_ and _fierce._

From behind him, he heard Alphys’ soft “wow” of astonishment, just barely above a whisper.

Carefully, he turned, unsure if the construct was sentient or not. While it didn’t look like it, wherever Sans paced, he felt as though the eye lights were following him despite never moving. But that was impossible.

“this’s cool as hell,” he breathed, taking a few steps to the left and right as though to judge the attack’s perception.

“I-is… is this all it does?” Alphys stuttered. When Sans looked back to her, she was hiding behind her phone, although she was holding it up as though to take a picture.

“uh, no…” Sans replied, very sure of that suddenly. He stepped off to the left again, then circled the beast to inspect it at a closer angle. As long as it didn’t do anything, it didn’t seem to be that much of a drain on him. It just hovered and watched, ready for instruction with silent intensity. That was interesting, to say the least. “i think it fires some kinda bullet…?”

The other scoffed softly and Sans turned to regard her, seeing the most excited grin on her face.

“I, I want to see!!”

The skeleton grinned at her in turn, surveying the area to make sure nothing was around to destroy that was of any value.

“ok,” he gave in as he readied himself. As he did so, he felt a pull against his soul and a rumbling growl from the construct. He flinched when something inside of him tugged a little more as his soul produced magic to feed into the attack. Oddly enough it didn’t hurt, but he noticed Alphys’ face blanch when she looked at her phone.

“Wh… W-wait, Sans!” she shouted and took a few steps forward.

A high pitch whine drowned out her cry and the only reason Sans heeded her was from her movement. Watching her, puzzled and restraining the odd throb in his rib cage, his attack stopped.

What little lights in the basement flickered and he exhaled deeply, suddenly feeling like sitting down would probably be a better idea. Could monsters attack while sitting? Was that in the rules? Maybe he’d be the first to try.

“what’s up,” he mumbled after the tinny noise had dropped from the air, rubbing at his sternum again.

“Don’t power up! J-just fire!”

“oh.” Well, that made sense. If he didn’t power up, it would be less of a drain on his reserves. He looked up to the construct again, feeling uneasy since he wasn’t quite sure how to tell it to fire. It had always just… happened. “...what, just fire?”

“Yeah!” Alphys was hopping excitedly in one place and he grinned, suddenly feeling foolish for the attention. “Oh! Oh, oh!”

“use your words, alph.”

“I, I am!! B-but, you know, I wanted to let you know, that! Um? Your magic levels inc.. increased a _lot_ just now!”

Sans scoffed, rubbing at his chest again. “you’re not serious.”

“N-not a Boss Monster, my big fat tail!!!”

The skeleton flushed, not knowing how to counter that. So instead he deflected, shrugging and turning away to regard the attack again. For some reason, the more he looked at it, the more familiar it seemed.

“just fire?”

He heard Alphys sigh in impatient exasperation, “Yes, Sans, just fire!”

“ok. say bye to that gross broken fridge, i guess…”

When Alphys laughed and clapped excitedly, Sans threw his left arm into the air, the construct jumping to life as magic crackled around like static electricity. The doctor gasped when the whine started up, faster this time, and Sans felt another tug against his soul when a wash of light filled the room. He grunted and felt sweat start to bead on his skull and slide down his neck when the magic slipped past his fingers, the attack following his lead.

The sad little mini-fridge at the opposite side of the room never saw it coming - and that being a pitiful chip off the top as its lid blew off one side and ricocheted off the wall and sailed high into the shadows of the ceiling. The snap was louder than the damage it received and even though it left Sans panting, Alphys had succumbed to a fit of giggles and excited jubilation at the display.

Grinning despite himself and ignoring the odd little pips of light that dotted his vision, Sans turned around to see as her laughter picked up and echoed in the large space. The bright light that enveloped the room decayed into motes of spent magic that drifted down from the ceiling, and with every wasted bit of magic, Sans felt a little detached. At least he felt happy that Alphys seemed amused.

Would that it had lasted. The lid of the decimated fridge came careening back into view from its journey through the air and was flying towards the giggling monster. In a moment of panic, Sans’ eye sockets voided and he let loose a warning shout and darted towards her, his arm reaching out.

Then everything stopped: the lid, the echo of Alphys’ laughter, even the motes of spent magic that hung in the air after the construct had fired. His feet stopped as though he had suddenly stepped in thick webbing. Nothing fell, no dust kicked up from the floor. Even the air seemed stale as everything was frozen in place.

Startled, Sans pulled his arm back and glanced around, a chill crawling up his spine. What had just happened? Did… something break? His mind should have told him that the construct of continuity had been altered, but he was too stunned to properly think of anything besides ‘my friend nearly got beaned by a goddamn fridge’.

He huffed, the tight feeling behind his ribs increasing by the second. Whatever it was, it didn’t hurt, but he knew he couldn’t keep it up for long. Rubbing the dull throb in his ribs, Sans took a step forward. Or at least tried. He was planted on the spot as well.

It was eerie to see everything frozen in place. The path following the lid in mid air made it appear like it was dripping in space, the sound barrier waving around as it cut through. He turned his skull when he thought he saw something move, watching from behind the shadows. But no one appeared to have been there, so Sans turned back to face Alphys, frozen in a state of cheering without realising how close she was to getting a faceful of metal.

He tried once more to move, grunting a little in effort. Fine. Concentrating hard on the lid, he reached out to it, limbs trembling as he felt a pinch. Alphys would be seriously hurt if he didn’t at least _try_ something, but the edged throb was enough to make him double over with a gasp.

Sans didn’t know what he was doing, just that he knew he had to use his Blue magic to move the trajectory of the lid.

Wafts of his hues ebbed off his arm in effort, the entire process making him feel so heavy and light at the same time. His magic clung to his bones with so much effort, taking so long to travel down his arm to collect in his hand.

Being nearly blinded by his own hue in his left eye, Sans gritted his teeth and flung the Blue magic at the lid, encasing it and changing its position in the air as sweat continued to bead up on his body.

“hang tight…” his voice rasped, goading himself to continue. A few black spots cropped up in his line of vision and he shook his head to clear it with a huff.

When he was sure the little doctor was safe from the lid’s path, Sans felt something bottom out of his rib cage and things seemed to speed up again. He wobbled in place and sucked in a breath as though he’d been holding it the entire time. Alphys’ giggles continued as though they had never stopped in the first place.

Grinning despite himself, the construct disappeared overhead and Sans could feel an odd shift throughout his body. The lights in the basement flickered with growing intensity as his body twisted. He felt faint. With the fires of the CORE surging within walking distance, the last senses he could detect was of something burning and the peculiar bitter smell that came along with it. Loud warning beeps sounded through the intercom system with the rumble far below and Alphys’ laughter cut off with the sound of rushed footsteps when she saw him fall.

_“S-SANS!!”_

It took a few moments for him to shake off the dizzy spell, and when he came to, a drink was forced to his teeth. He groaned when sound, light and touch all hit him at once and he lurched to the side to escape it all.

“Wait-” was a hushed whisper, “w-w-wait, p-please, I’m sorry. Please, I’m _sorry!!_ Oh, oh god, I didn’t want this, I, I, I-”

“alphys…” he groaned softly, lifting his arm to accept the drink while he squinted at her. It took him several moments to realise that he was half supported by her on the ground and she had her phone gripped tightly in one hand. “calm down.”

“I, I - and I should’ve been watching the… the r-readings - a-a-and, I wasn’t, b-because I was e.. excited for you, b-because this is a huge d-deal, a-a-and-”

Ignoring the drink for now, Sans sighed and threw his other arm around her shoulders to give her a reassuring hug. For good measure, he stuck the straw of the drink in between his teeth, his magic accepting the replenishment with an odd kind of hiccough. Her claws dug into his hoodie and she was crying and shaking her head. He felt bad for worrying her, but he would’ve felt even worse if she had been injured.

“A-and your, your levels, they were g-going up, and I.. I didn’t realise how much, a-and… with that attack, it was… it was big, but with so little damage o-output, I, I didn’t realise h-how much it, it, um, it drained you, I-”

“alphys. breathe. c’mon. i’m ok,” he assured her, just as her breathing had started to pick up and hitch on every other word. She buried her face against his shoulder and he patted her back, his vision still swimming. “i’m ok. really.”

“Y-y-y-you-” she gulped against her tears, her voice almost wailing, “y-your le-levels j.. just _t-tanked, and,_ and… you p-p-p-passed out!”

“like. it wasn’t bad, alph. i swear,” he said again, more convincingly, “i’m alright. are you ok?”

She snorted and sniffed, keeping her head bowed as she leaned away and covered her face, nodding pitifully as though guilted by his concern. Her glasses were askew and she was a mess. As he came to look around the room they were in, several things were strewn about - likely in Alphys’ search to bring him something to replenish his spent reserves.

Awkwardly, Sans pushed himself up with his free hand and sat on the floor, still drinking what he now recognised was a soda and he sighed, giving her shoulder a brief pat. He had a feeling that the only reason it had gone so badly this time was due to the fact he was still recovering from the previous blast days before.

That and… whatever that freeze-frame kind of thing was.

Even though she was still sniffling and had tears running down her scaly face, Sans gave her a wink and grinned, pushing the thoughts away for now. “so, uh… i guess that’s my blaster?” Yeah, that seemed right. She offered him a frumpy, unsure smile and smacked his arm, nearly jostling the drink from his hand.

“Y-you’re sick!”

“m’always sick,” he retorted offhandedly. “didja get the readings?”

Wiping over her face with her lab coat sleeve, she exhaled a deep breath. “Yes.”

“and?”

“I need to… go over them?”

“sounds fair to me,” Sans paused to suck noisily at the straw, emphasising since he didn’t want the other to worry too much. “it’s ok if i stay overnight, right? kinda late.”

Alphys nodded her head and adjusted her glasses, then drew her arms close to herself. Sans noted that her tail did the same as a sort of self-comforting tic. He gave her a lazy grin and rolled up to his feet, flinching when the sensor wire tugged at the connection to his soul. With one hand secured around the drink container and the other free, he reached down to help her up with renewed strength.

“c’mon. maybe we can do that mew mew fruity ice skate party.”

That earned him a startled laugh, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the ideas I've had for the story that have been with me for a very long time, since the beginning!
> 
> ~~Every time I write a chapter without the Warm Boy, I miss him ;n;~~


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending the night at Alphys’ lab, Sans reads up on Soul Reactions and doesn’t sleep for long thanks to a dream about a parent long gone. In the middle of the night, he decides to search through the footage of the afternoon he was attacked. He discovers a very informative letter from Papyrus regarding interspecies hanky panky.

Sans brought his drink with him when Alphys urged him towards the elevator. Distracted, he followed her, eyeing the hand cautiously held out to aid him should he stumble. She had left the sensor tethered to him, so worried over his blackout that Sans couldn’t convince her to remove it until he could _prove_ to her that he actually felt fine.

And he did feel fine. Oddly enough, despite his blackout, the drink that he’d been given had strengthened him quickly, so much that he was suspicious of its contents. Alphys merely mentioned that it was a fortified drink made special in Hotland. He could believe it; the drink was warm and spicy, yet had a bite of bitterness that gradually melded into something sweet. It wasn’t a bad taste, if he was entirely honest.

Once situated upstairs again, Alphys handed over her phone so she could arrange some cushions, pillows, blankets and snacks on the floor in front of the television. He lingered while she did so and felt his pocket buzz.

Then again.

And again.

Sans pulled his phone out from his pocket.

> [Incoming call: hot stuff]

He stared at it for a moment before he wandered down the room a little ways, scuffing his slippers on the tiles in idle thought. “heya,” he answered softly.

 _“Sans,”_ the fire monster seemed to exude relief. Even though he wasn’t sure why, Sans felt his soul skip and he grinned awkwardly to Alphys. She had looked up when she heard him speak.

“in the flesh.” There was silence from the other end, but he could hear the fuzzy crackle of fire fizz and pop as though in rebuke. “how’re you feelin’?” the skeleton mumbled into the receiver, trying to keep his voice low so Alphys couldn’t overhear. “no more smoke?”

Grillby didn’t reply immediately, although it wasn’t for lack of trying. His voice was crisp but buried by his flames, roasting on each syllable when he finally made out a few partial words; _“...Power… went… black…. ..ans?”_

Sans felt his soul lurch uncomfortably, knowing the worried tone. Of course the other would have noticed, especially when he had divulged his theory as to how Sans’ connection with the CORE worked - that and Sans’ affirmation. He sighed softly, wishing he could give the old flame a reassuring pat.

“y’know, not every blackout is `cause of me,” he replied in a standoffish way as he toyed with the wire in between his digits in thought. He heard a soft sigh from the other end and his soul jumped again, this time more like a flutter.

Grillby was clearly worried; he could tell.

“`course, uh… i might’ve overdone it a bit,” he relented sheepishly. Sans heard a stuttering flutter and he gave in to a chuckle. “relax. m’ok-”

 _“Are you, though…?”_ Grillby almost hissed back. His words cracked, clearly agitated by the news. Sans felt horrible, but he didn’t allow it to tinge his words.

“yeah.”

 _“`Ok` is not a feeling I will accept this time,”_ the fire monster tried insistently, his tone almost popping and seething.

Sans almost didn’t know what to say. He had told the truth - that he felt fine, even though he had pushed it. He mentally smacked himself and twisted the wire as he spoke, eye lights darting around the tiles at his feet. As he went over it in his head, he tried to find words that would calm the other down.

“uh… ok, then,” he offered a little lamely and gave in to a shrug. He caught the way Alphys glanced at him again and flushed in embarrassment. “guess i can say in all honesty, i don’t feel half-bad? i, uh… i mean, i have some equipment hooked up to measure my magic output, but nothin’ like, you know… before.” He listened to Grillby’s ambient flames and how they must be closer to the receiver, just barely projecting a staticky noise into the line. “alphys is just keepin’ tabs for a bit. it’s honestly nothin’ to worry about.”

 _“Poor excuse for a deflection…”_ Grillby sighed and Sans had to chuckle at that.

“yeah. guess so. sorry to worry ya.”

A bit of silence followed, occasionally broken by the subtle snaps and pops of the fire monster’s aura. Sans hummed to himself and wandered back to the makeshift bed of blankets and cushions on the floor.

“alright. you’ve twisted my ulna,” he relented, “tibia honest? i tried somethin’ and maybe it affected the core. but it was a fluke, uh…” He eyed Alphys, who was looking at him with worry. “i couldn’t let it happen.”

 _“....Words that are… concerning,”_ the other remarked warily. _“And you continue to deflect.”_

“my bad.” Sans’ grin tugged down in a frown. “i really do feel ok. which is kinda weird, but… i’m ok with that. i’m not exhausted, i don’t feel sick…”

_“...Truly?”_

Sans chuckled. “am i _really_ that untrustworthy?” When the fire monster hummed in amused agreement, Sans grimaced. “i’m in good hands, grillby.”

A sharp crackle popped from the line and Sans grinned a little more when he remembered using the other’s full name had a startled effect.

“speakin’ of deflection…”

It was Grillby’s turn to laugh, _“Me…? Still… somewhat low on magic. Rivalling you in naps, lately. At this rate, I will transform into something of a lazy homebody.”_

Sans snickered, “careful, that’s a title m’not willin’ to give up to you.” His soul did a happy flip when Grillby laughed a little louder at his joke, emotions swirling around his rib cage as light flickered between the gaps. He flushed when he heard a gasp from Alphys and turned so he couldn’t see her, resuming his pacing.

 _“If I may be… entirely honest,”_ the fire monster continued once he had calmed down a little, _“...been somewhat lethargic lately. To be expected, naturally. However…”_

“want me to pick you up somethin’?” Sans offered automatically and rubbed at his sternum, willing the flickering of his soul to calm down. “i _am_ in hotland, after all.”

_“Rub it in.”_

Sans grinned to himself. “dirty request,” he murmured just under his breath, enough for the other to hear, but just low enough that Alphys couldn’t. He snickered at what had to be a bursting flush, as the static and thrum of fire became a little louder.

It took the fire monster awhile to collect himself, but in the end he mentioned something about a few items the skeleton _could_ get for him if he really felt obliged. Soon the conversation had concluded and with hushed goodbyes, Sans hung up and stared at his phone.

When the skeleton turned back to Alphys, grinning excusingly for the extended call, she had a knowing smirk on her face.

“what.” Sans rubbed over his chest again, the light still flickering with the warm thoughts the conversation left him with.

“You… _really_ haven’t read chapters twenty to thirty-five relating to soul reactions, h-have you?” she said, suddenly suspicious. She was sitting in the middle of the cushioned blanket pile with her arms crossed while the VCR was paused just after all the preview commercials and before the actual movie.

Sans pulled one side of his hoodie to cover his bare rib cage, muting the glow in embarrassment.

“You’re _really_ smitten, Sans! I think it’s cute! But, um, it’s not natural to hide your love. If you truly have f.. feelings enough to merit _those_ kinds of reactions, w-well-” Alphys’ words deteriorated into more flustered stammers, but Sans very clearly heard the squeaks and giggles of “love” and “passion”, amongst other things. His face felt hot and he idly rubbed at his neck, gradually moving to pull one side of his hood against his face when he sat down.

“Why? Wh-why are you embarrassed!”

“alph…” he groaned, almost pained.

“Oh!” She stared at him for awhile, tail flicking nervously as her gaze settled below his skull. A little self-conscious now for some reason, Sans twisted his body in a way as if to hide. “You haven’t even…”

“please-”

“You… you haven’t even said it!?”

“said what!”

A low squeal escaped her and Alphys’ face turned a brilliant pink, coupled with excited hand movements that turned into almost congratulatory shoulder pats. “S-Sans! You haven’t said ‘I lo’-” She snorted and covered her snout to stifle herself. “O-oh, gosh!! Oh wow! How, wow, I-I mean, to not say, after all this time… your `I-love-you`s!!!”

Magic flushed his skull clear down to his collarbones, he was sure of it. Sans tilted his head, feeling heat linger in his face, not wanting to give any clues, but _damn_ Alphys was being nosy. Especially for a monster who had yet to confess her own crush to a certain fishy captain…

“maybe we did,” he mumbled truthfully, his grin broadening despite himself. Her excitement and giddiness was infectious, although he was able to hide it better. She waffled on about the nature of monster souls and how they reacted to each other’s when a pair or more shared their emotions.

That’s when he realised how often he had seen the subtle glow at Grillby’s chest where he had suspected the fire monster’s soul to be, up until recently. It was paler than his ambient firelight, thus it appeared more subtle than Sans’ own. With how brightly the other shone in his life, Sans had no doubt the other’s soul glow matched his own.

Unable to speak past the mumbled reveal that it had been on accident, yet reciprocated, Sans clammed up, flustered when Alphys suddenly got up to retrieve something from the bookcase at the other side of the room. When she returned, she all but slammed the thick textbook in front of him; Magical Bodies & The Housed Soul.

“Y-you’re reading this - and before you leave, too!!” she insisted, still giggling.

While it didn’t put a damper on their movie night, Sans found he was more absorbed in the text than the Mew Mew Musical (or whatever it was called). Alphys did not pay him any heed as she was distracted by the movie.

Inside was a plethora of knowledge that he had skimmed over. The mere mention of sexual urges, intimacy and mating at the beginning of the textbook had been enough for him to skip over before, not really thinking he would be indulging in _those_ so soon. But as it came to be, he _had_ experienced at least one such thing with Grillby, and thus he had to study a little more than what he had previously glossed over.

Of course, the chapters delved deeper into the modern concept of a monster’s soul. It also explained what monsters called the Heart, which amplified emotions based on their Hope and Compassionate nature. That a monster’s Hope (HP) enables a higher range of emotion depending on how stable it was. The details were still not widely known or in too descriptive detail, but when it was lower, disparity and depression sunk in. When monsters were considered Fallen, it was difficult to hold onto Hope and any emotion past acceptance. And that’s when a Fallen monster would lose its ability to hold life when Love and Hope were gone, and Compassion crumbled - leaving behind Dust, the sole remainder of a monster’s body.

Then again, that’s how his mind processed the information. If it had gone into more in depth detail, Sans would have understood it a little better.

That being said, Sans read over the chapters relating to this, finding a new angle to muse deeper into his own feelings. Naturally, he felt his best when his health was higher and felt low when it plunged to his base stats.

The light of his soul was something called Resonance, and was shared between pairs or more. The flicker meant hesitancy, a solid brightness was absolute love with no doubt, while a more subdued glow was still a blossoming, young love a monster felt.

Sans rubbed over his sternum in thought as he flicked his eye lights to the television screen. While the movie was in full swing, he found he couldn’t hold interest in it for long. Sans stopped paying attention and went back to his reading when he was sure Alphys was glued to the television and not him.

 _Was_ he hesitant? He knew with all his being that he really cared for Grillby. Hell, that was true even before he confessed, even before he thought to use the L-word even in private thoughts.

He knew he did, although he was unsure why divulging in actual words was so difficult for him. For their kind, it was natural, from platonical to familial love, to romanticism. Saying ‘I love you’ shouldn’t be such a hard thing to do, yet here he was, unsure.

He had tried, privately while he read, to push the words through his thoughts to his soul - just as an experiment. As a result, the soul glow behind his ribs flickered and beat strongly, casting a soft light onto the textbook’s pages. Awkwardly, he hunkered down and lay prone on the cushions to shield it and also to get more comfortable.

The movie continued to be nothing but background noise; he couldn’t understand much of the language if he didn’t read the subtitles anyway, no matter how many of these shows he watched with his friend.

Soon enough, it became harder to focus, despite his interest. The movie was the extended version and it had been late in the evening in the first place, so Sans figured it was an OVA with several parts. He caught himself dozing on more than one occasion, using the textbook as a makeshift pillow or nodding off so abruptly a deep snore rudely awoke him. It took him a moment before Sans realised he was the one that had made the noise.

Eventually, Alphys would lower the volume on the television just a little and trade out the textbook for a proper pillow the next time he dozed. He was out like a light, and caring for others in her clumsy yet good-hearted way, Alphys draped a fleece-lined blanket over him as she watched him rest for a moment.

She didn’t really understand why Sans and his brother had been arguing - enough for him to flee, but also that talking about it was difficult. She understood in a way; she wouldn’t want to step on any toes if she had fought with any friends… well, if she felt that she had any. She tried to power through it, but nothing really came to mind that the two brothers could be cross about with each other.

That is, Sans didn’t seem angry, so was it Papyrus? Even when they had all been together, the younger brother had always kept off to the side, keeping his worry and distress to himself. Maybe that had something to do with it, she speculated. Or, she could be entirely wrong! It wouldn’t be the first time she had assumed something and had been completely off base.

Of course, she had worries about the other’s condition, but as her phone hadn’t beeped with any warning signals during the past three hours, she was able to relax a little when Sans finally dozed off. She allowed herself to lie down, blankets tucked around her like a nest, allowing her eyes to droop as she read over the bright pink lines of text that flashed at the bottom of the screen. Soon enough, she was on her way to dreamland, too.

For whatever reason, he woke up in a clear room, but it wasn’t clinical. Not like a hospital, but it had tools and posters around. Some looked familiar, others not. A great deal of them didn’t make any sense, or perhaps it was just because he was too young to understand.

Still, he sat beside his parent, swinging his legs over the end of the chair that was too large for him; his shoes didn’t even touch the ground. He squeezed at the sides of his chair, looking around, craning his skull to look up over his shoulder to meet with a familiar form of a slouched figure dressed in black. Their face was pale, features nondescript yet kind, seemingly to absorb light and radiate so they didn’t show a face.

 _[-and did you have a good day?]_ Their hand flicked out, drawing symbols in the air with simple words and phrases so Sans could understand. Eagerly, he nodded, excited to be conversing when the wait had been so long. And he didn’t even know _why_ they were waiting!

_[That’s good. I am very proud, of course. Are you ready to meet your brother?]_

Sans’ legs kicked a little more in excitement and he leaned over the side of the chair, giggles filling the space between he and the familiar monster. His voice was a lot softer even though he was pent up with so much glee over the prospect of having a sibling - _a brother_ \- and finally being able to meet him after a whole week!! When he had already been here!

But… his parent had been sick. He wasn’t sure why. His father said they had wanted another child, so why? Why sick? The details were spared on him, of course, but Sans figured as young as he was, that it was very hard to do something that two or more monsters had to do together. It was apparently what his other parent had to do themself. He was only allowed to know the bare minimum at his age.

Instead, his eye lights quietly took in the creased and drained appearance of the monster in front of him. They were doubled over, their single arm holding themself steady. Long etches of bone were scored and one half of them appeared missing, but they had always been like that. It wasn’t because they were injured in any way. Some monsters just were different and that was ok! And he liked that he looked more like this parent than his other, if he was honest. Daddy just looked scary sometimes… but it didn’t mean that he was a bad person.

His father wasn’t there this time, but he was keeping quiet just in case he was around. Sans looked around him, to the tiles on the floor to the green bedspread and the cute little stuffed monsters in varied sizes near the foot of the bed… His eye lights followed up his parent’s covered legs and up to where their rib cage lay open as usual, then up to their face, where he saw - nothing.

But it wasn’t as though they didn’t have a face. At the back of his mind, far away, Sans knew that they _did_ have a face. It was just that he just couldn’t remember it.

Another monster came in but Sans didn’t pay them any mind. The familiar monster had leaned back but gestured for him to come closer, so he did. He crawled up onto the bed and curled against their body, feeling the soothing, nurturing magic feed into him as he was held and cherished.

The other monster and his parent started to converse as he dozed, listening to the gentle hum of a soul nearby. As he breathed, Sans caught the gentle scent of porcelain and bone from his parent. With it brought the gentle shield of safety and he sighed long into the other’s clothes, perfectly content while snuggling against them.

Soon, he awoke to a noise. Sans looked up, rubbing at his face as he collected where he was. He was still lying against his parent, but they were holding something now, something that had such a soft rustling noise that it could barely count as a rattle at all. Curious, he leaned in close to view the tiniest skull he had ever seen swathed in bright orange blankets. Awe overcoming him, he gasped loudly, reaching out to touch the worming blanket making such a funny noise.

 _[This is your brother-]_ His parent pushed their warbling, multifaceted voice gently between the three of them while Sans crawled up, using the other’s rib to steady himself as he peered closely. _[░▙▛▒░▒ ░ame is Papyrus-]_

He didn’t react to the sound of static. Distantly, Sans knew the holes in his memory were to blame and that his parent had Fallen Down long ago. His gaze was fixated on his little brother as he became overwhelmed, scared to touch in case the little one would break.

He was so new, but instantly Sans knew that he loved Papyrus and that he would be the best big brother the world could ever hope for. He grinned down at the small baby bones, feeling the emotion build up in his chest as tears started to well up in his sockets. His whole body was trembling with how much excitement and love he felt for his brother just then. He would protect him. They would be happy, and even if they weren’t, they would work together because that’s what brothers did! They would play and learn and care for each other and their parents would be there for them too-

The sound of static was filtering through like an old television set but Sans wanted to continue the dream. It had been so long that he felt he was truly at peace and absolutely happy being with family. It made an ache surface in his chest as the dream shifted abruptly, blending into cacophonous sounds, colours and light.

He held Papyrus in his arms, although they were a little older then - time shifted to another vague memory. His brother was perhaps two years old, Sans ten. That seemed right. They had been waiting in the same place and lived almost entirely in the room with the green bed, seeing the familiar monster every day. It seemed like they only went home to sleep when Daddy came back to spend time with them or when Sans had to go to school.

Sans would carry conversations about his brother’s very quick learning and praised him while the three hugged on the bed. While he knew their parent was sick, he didn’t think there was ever going to be a time when he wouldn’t be able to see them again.

Until one day, they were gone.

Awoken by the thought and a click, Sans opened his eye sockets. The crushing sound of static playing on the television after the VCR tape stopped had filtered through his dream and he felt disoriented. He heard Alphys’ loud snorts and snores from beside him and blearily looked around as he pushed himself up. Caught on the last rib, the wire severed and he grunted in surprise at the tug on his soul, giving his chest a rub in disdain for the device.

Moving downstairs was an ordeal of itself. He grabbed the textbook and his phone, using its light to manouvre around stacks of books and papers, but he had managed to bump into desks along the way. He grunted in a half-stupor, sinking into the desk chair in front of the surveillance system and the many displays Alphys had for all her cameras around the Underground.

The high pitch whine of the electronics made the inside of his skull itch but Sans soldiered through it, holding on to the tight feeling behind his rib cage. It had only been hours, but it honestly felt like months since he’d last spoken with Papyrus.

He couldn’t believe how he had been acting. Was it important anymore that he needed an apology? That he was right? Why had he felt that way? All he wanted was for some consideration, for his brother’s usual tight embrace with the reassurance it brought. It was selfish and he knew he hadn’t been the most understanding, especially with how his brother was acting lately…

When he set the textbook down on the desk in front of the display monitors, Sans saw a loose sheet poking through, further into the book than what he’d read. He stared at it for a moment before he flipped through the pages, well beyond the ‘Culmination of Your Being’ chapters and straight through to… he guessed it.

Intimacy and the sharing of souls.

Sombre, he tugged loose the folded paper, lined and creased into the shape of a soul. He already knew it had been meant for him, but nothing could have prepared himself for the content of the letter.

_DEAR BROTHER,_

_HELLO AND WELCOME TO ADULT MAGISTRY!! WHILE IT COMES TO NO SURPRISE THAT YOU (NOR I) WILL FIND ANY INFORMATION ABOUT SKELETONS IN THIS TEXT, THERE IS UNDOUBTEDLY CONTEXT OF A NATURE YOU WILL IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS, BE ‘INTERESTED’ IN. SINCE YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW. WHICH APPEARS TO BE GOING QUITE WELL!! I AM EXCITED FOR YOU!!_

_AND NOW ON THIS NEW AND EXCITING JOURNEY THROUGH ADOLESCENCE AND INTO ADULTHOOD DOTH THE GREAT PAPYRUS INSTRUCT YOU ON SOME KEY POINTS - INVALUABLE INTIMACY AND RULES AS OUTLINED IN THE DATING BOOK FROM THE LIBRARY! WHICH I HAVE FOUND!! FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY!!_

_I AM BEING SERIOUS!! I WAS EXTREMELY SHOCKED WHEN YOU DISMISSED MY VERY IMPORTANT AND IN-DEPTH EXPLANATION, ALRIGHT!?_

_FIRST STEP: DATES! YOU HAVE HAD THEM! THAT’S REALLY… COOL!! YES, YOU! EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE MET YOUR MATCH WELL IN ADVANCE, IT IS STILL SOCIALLY REQUIRED TO ‘MEET’ AND ‘GREET’ YOUR FAVOURED OTHER (OR MORE!!) TO SEE IF THERE IS REALLY A CONNECTION PAST YOUR REQUITED CONFESSION!_

_SECOND STEP: MUTUAL EXPLORATION! DON’T THINK THAT YOUR COOL AND EVER-OBSERVANT BROTHER HASN’T NOTICED THE MARKS LEFT BEHIND FROM WHAT HAS TO BE RATHER SPICY AFFAIRS FROM (HOPEFULLY) BEHIND CLOSED DOORS!! THAT MEANS THERE IS DEFINITE INTEREST IN EXPLORING EACH OTHER………. LEGIBLE WINK!!_

_WHAT I MEAN IS THAT. WHILE. I MAY BE. ONLY SLIGHTLY EMBARRASSED THAT MY BROTHER IS ENGAGING IN AMOROUS ACTIVITIES,_ _I AM… ALSO SOMEWHAT PROUD?_ _VERY PROUD!! YES, A VERY EXCITED, VERY NATURALLY PROUD PERSON. THAT ISN’T WEIRD AT ALL. TO BE PROUD OF YOUR FAMILY. FOR… GROWING. AND DOING FUN THINGS._

_~~WHICH I IMAGINE… GRILLBY MIGHT BE? DON’T READ INTO THAT. IF YOU SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THAT I WILL HAVE WORDS, SANS!~~ _

_THE POINT BEING THAT, THESE CHAPTERS ARE IMPORTANT. WHILE I PRETEND NO KNOWLEDGE AS TO WHICH SPECIFICITY ANY GENDERED OR NON-GENDERED PIECES EITHER OF YOU WILL CONJURE IN YOUR SPARE TIME-_

_IT IS OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE THAT YOU KNOW IT DOESN’T MATTER WHICH YOU CHOOSE. OR HOW MANY YOU CHOOSE. OR IF YOU CHOOSE ANYTHING AT ALL! THAT, LET US SAY, IF YOU CHOOSE A QUICHE AND GRILLBY ALSO CHOOSES A QUICHE, THAT JUST MEANS THE TWO OF YOU WILL NEED TO FIGURE OUT THE PUZZLE OF ENJOYING TWO QUICHES!! OR IF YOU OR HE DECIDE UPON SAUSAGE. THEN YOU CAN ENJOY A QUICHE AND A SAUSAGE AT ONCE! AND VERY LIKELY PERHAPS FITTING THOSE TWO PIECES TOGETHER! LIKE A JIGSAW!! ONLY WITH… MINIMAL SERRATED BLADES. HOPEFULLY._

_I AM GETTING AWAY FROM MY TRUE OBJECTIVE HERE. THE POINT OF THIS LETTER WASN’T TO EMBARRASS YOU WITH POORLY CONSTRUCTED ALLEGORIES, SINCE YOU OBVIOUSLY DON’T WANT TO HEAR THIS FROM YOUR BROTHER AND CERTAINLY WON’T SEEK OUT MISTER GERSON’S ADVICE ON THE MATTER… IT WAS A GOOD THING YOU BROUGHT ALL THESE TEXTBOOKS HOME. ALTHOUGH, YOU HAVE YET TO STUDY AT HOME. AT ALL._

_I KNOW THAT IT IS NO ‘HUGE DEAL’ TO SHARE FIRST EXPERIENCES WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND. IN FACT, I AM GLAD YOU FINALLY SEEM HAPPIER. IT DOES MY HEART AND SOUL GOOD TO SEE YOU SMILING SO MUCH AND LAUGHING… AND EVEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THINGS! AND IT ISN’T A RUSE!! THAT GIVES ME SUCH RELIEF!!_

_THANK YOU FOR TRUSTING ME WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT YOU WILL BE RESPONSIBLE AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. YOU ARE MY DEAR BROTHER AFTER ALL, AND I CAN’T WAIT FOR WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS FOR ALL OF US - IN THE FUTURE!!_

_YOUR ADORING BROTHER AND EXPERT IN THE LOVE-SCIENCES,_

_PAPYRUS_

_PS: TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, YOU EMBARRASSINGLY SHY BRICK OF CALCIUM!!!!_

The skeleton sat in the chair in shock. He gaped at the paper, disbelieving as to its subject contents. Then he rather abruptly turned over the paper and looked at the writing side again, his magic flickering in restless coils, embarrassed. Well, it came to no shock how his brother felt - that Sans had all but resigned himself to being alone, it had really been hard on Papyrus to see him that way. It was no wonder he involved himself in this aspect of his life like he did.

Papyrus believed in him, just like he believed in others. He always had. It was a universal constant, never changing, and it hurt to know that all this time, Papyrus had only Sans’ best interests at heart. He folded the paper over and put it into his pocket, flipping through a few more pages of the textbook just in case there were more letters, but that appeared to be the only one.

He had been a bad brother and friend, and he knew he had to do right by his family. It no longer mattered who was right and who was wrong anymore. He had to see things from Papyrus’ side. How the events folded out for _him._

Sans fiddled with a few displays with the keyboard after putting the textbook down, his eye lights misting ever so slightly with the feeling of regret. He hadn’t considered how all that happened had affected his brother. Hell, now that he thought about it, Papyrus had been oddly distant since his accident…

He tapped the Enter key and the screen in front of him jumped to life. Swallowing a dejected sigh, Sans scooted the rolling chair closer so he could type at a better angle.

> **` //WELCOME` **  
>  **` //`**  
>  **` //SUBMIT QUERY`**  
>  **` //admin snowdin.cam4 backup search`**  
>  **` //`**  
>  **` //CHOOSE DATE (MM/DD/YYYY)`**  
>  **` //info calen.start 02/15/201X`**  
>  **` //`**  
>  **` //CHOOSE TIME (HH:MM:SS)`**  
>  **` //info rec.start 12:30:00`**  
>  **` //`**  
>  **` //PLAY RECORDING (Y / N)`**

Sans’ finger hovered above the Y key. He was moving as though on autopilot, his body protesting even when he knew the answer. He had to know if anything had happened prior to when he had ignited the dimensional box, or even if anything was recorded after.

As predicted, the area around his house and the library didn’t reveal anything out of place, no matter how much he tried to zoom in or pan to either side of where the camera was situated in the trees. He saw their neighbours going about their day and idle chats that weren’t picked up by the camera due to its distance.

He leaned his skull on one hand as he used the arrow keys to pan around, eye lights searching for _anything,_ when things suddenly cut out. Sans flinched and tried backing out of the program; ctrl+alt+del, alt+f4, command+#. But the screen appeared frozen at 13:14:33.

Shit.

He leaned back onto the chair and idly swivelled. He supposed he should’ve asked Alphys before snooping through her footage, although he was still tapping the right arrow key, hoping something would turn up.

But nothing did. Just blank footage, likely from a power outage. There was no snow of static and all the other displays had blipped out, too. The sound dithered out and left him feeling hollow. Empty. Just like how he’d felt just before things went black, back then.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Right arrow. Right arrow. Right arrow.

He leaned in and pushed the key down as hard as he could, his frustration building. Eventually it would have to boot back up again, right? Sans glanced at the textbook and kept his bony finger on the arrow key as he picked it up, ready to resume reading.

The skeleton would only get a few paragraphs in when something white flashed on the screen and he jerked his hand away in surprise with a muffled shout. While the feed still didn’t have sound, he could’ve sworn he heard a high-pitch whine through the right stereo coupled with a low crackle of electricity. The screen’s picture jumped, the tracking bleed making the picture almost unrecognisable when he tried panning the camera again.

The screen displayed the timestamp as it did so: 17:57:23

Many hours later… That was how long the power outage had been? Sans suddenly felt very ill, as though his soul was sinking with the thought.

White and black filtered against the camera’s feed as he tried, cursing under his breath for it to clear enough to see. He just needed to _see,_ damn it! He thought he did, but it had ran by so quickly.

It had been Papyrus. He could spot that scarf from miles away. By the way he held himself, he was in a panic, nearly slipping on the ice around the side of the house as he disappeared from view.

Sans felt a knot curl up in his magic, trying to strangle him. He knew exactly what Papyrus would find and how he would react, if history was anything to go by. His body began to tremble as he leaned forward a little more, eye lights fixed to the screen as he waited with bated breath for anything to happen.

He felt his soul lurch when he saw the bleed of orange magic pour out from the back door, just barely visible with the camera’s poor capture. The track bleed suddenly made the tape unviewable and Sans stood, chair falling behind him in a clatter as he shook the monitor with both hands.

“c’mon-” he hissed, giving the electronics a thudding smack as though it would help. His soul was shaking in distress, every panic he felt then starting to congeal around himself like a sick, angry mass. He froze when the monitor’s picture faded back to black again and he took a step away, anger giving way to desperation.

“please, don’t,” he tried bargaining with the surveillance system, giving it another thump with a balled fist so hard it actually hurt. He winced and rubbed his hand, stepping back to see if it had worked - or it was merely when the footage resumed. Either way, he was more or less satisfied with the result.

The thin staticky picture was of his brother, tall and proud and strong in the distance, not all at like him… lying weak in his arms, protected by a blanketed aura of healing magic. Sans’ own magic was so weak it barely registered on the monitor and he saw the trembling, haunted look Papyrus wore.

He tried panning despite how stunned he felt. His phalanges shook, every miskey logged with an error beep that punctuated how rattled he had become. He trembled and swore to himself when Papyrus came back into view, cradling Sans’ unconscious body against himself as he carefully manoeuvred around the ice and snow and up into the house.

He cared.

Of _course_ he cared. He felt stupid to feel that it was any different than before. Papyrus had cared for him, had ran home to discover him that way… How did _he_ feel throughout everything? When Papyrus’ friend had tried to hurt him, maybe even kill him, what was going through his brother’s thoughts?

It hit him. It hit him and hurt him _hard._ Papyrus naturally didn’t have anything to do with it. He was just as much in the dark about everything as Sans was. And the fact they had fought so soon afterwards could very well mean that Papyrus thought Sans was angry with him, despite having apologised and told him to the contrary.

That was it, wasn’t it? Papyrus was giving him space like he wanted. But at the same time, Papyrus had no one to consider how _he_ felt, despite knowing how his thoughts would go, Sans had taken the time to go over things in his mind. His brother wouldn’t place blame with anyone. Everyone was good, or they could change. No one was inherently ‘bad’, and everyone deserved a second, third, or fourth chance at redemption. They could change into a good person with just a little guidance and a patient hand.

Even though the little golden flower truly had attempted something… it wasn’t Papyrus’ fault. And Sans had to convince him of that.

Exhausted by the torrential emotions that whirled around his skull and too little sleep, Sans bent to right the chair and saw Alphys at the end of the room, watching quietly. The skeleton shuffled in silence, resuming his place on the chair and panning the footage to something a bit less innocuous without a word. But his eye sockets were hollow and he could very distinctly feel something slide down his cheekbone before roughly brushing it away with a dry chuckle.

“sorry, alph. couldn’t sleep.”

He heard shuffling from behind him, the footsteps of clawed feet clicking against the tile and almost choked breathing from her. He tried to keep himself from reacting to her empathy but he couldn’t. Frustrated, he wiped at a few more tears that had defied his inner struggle of restraint. Of course, the date on the monitor would tip Alphys off about what he had been searching for and she gently rested her hand on his shoulder.

He couldn’t disguise the strangled way the laugh escaped him when he ducked his skull in shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans has finally come to the conclusion that he hasn't been considerate of how Papyrus must be feeling throughout this. Sure, he apologised before, but his behaviour has made it seem as though he's avoiding his brother. Because it has only been him and Papyrus for so long, now with Grillby in his life more and more, his attention is a bit divided at the moment. With this comes the resolution to see things from Papyrus' view. Hopefully. :V
> 
> I hope you like Papyrus' very informative letter - there's the sex talk. X'DDDD The only reason why they didn't have it face to face is because Papyrus is very keen on Sans not running away out of sheer embarrassment... which he has tried to do several times.
> 
> Thank you for reading. 80+ subs and over 8.5k hits is very humbling. I never would've imagined people liked my fic so much ;u;
> 
> PS: C-Puff has a fic they have just started ~~because I bullied them~~ called Remedy!! [check it out here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068695) It has cute sansby and breath-taking writing ;U; I'm so excited for this fic~~


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphys and Sans discover an anomaly in the Ruins. Papyrus visits Undyne and gets some good advice. Some brothers hug it out.

“i can do that.”

Alphys stared at him, her attention pulled from the television and the seventh episode of the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie extended OVA. Sans had been silent for the most part when she had convinced him to come back upstairs to the sleepover pile and she had popped in another tape.

This was her favourite episode and while Sans normally made subtle jabs at the clichés and tropes found in the media, her eyes went flat when he outright lied about certain techniques the magical girl would do.

Sans was sitting up and had pulled his shirt back over his skull, a little more comfortable now that his soul’s glow was hidden from view. The main heroine had just stopped time to prevent a star bomb from exploding near some kind of important structure and Sans grinned a little uncomfortably under Alphys’ scrutinous gaze.

“Sans…”

The skeleton shrugged defensively. “i figured i should say somethin’ before i forget,” he muttered a little sheepishly.

“When!” she all but demanded, pausing the episode. She turned so they were directly facing each other and Sans was watching her, somewhat astonished.

“whaddaya mean? it was…” Sans tried to think on that. How could he explain this? He couldn’t move, nothing else could move, not even the shadows. Apart from a very strenuous display of magic, he hadn’t been able to do anything. And in fact, how could he prove that something had happened at all if he couldn’t do it again?

He grumbled a little to himself. “…tapes?” he offered lamely, suddenly feeling insecure. It was much different than when he was showing off his new attack. The known laws of physics just didn’t account for any freezes in the continuum. The gridline was a whole different story - it was merely displacing one entrypoint and walking into it, and turning up in another place altogether on the other side. He had become rather adept at it, he realised. He could even do it on the spot instead of looking for a rift.

Alphys looked skeptical and even less convinced when he tried to explain his theory - which admittedly, had a lot of holes apart from, “it just happened. the lid of the fridge was gonna smack you in the face and i just… panicked?”

Her skepticism only grew from there, but the more Sans tried to explain, the worse it became. He didn’t understand why she wouldn’t believe him, or at the very least why she wouldn’t humour him. Perhaps it was because he had woken her up so late in the night and she was on her fourth cup of coffee.

“If… If something like that happened, Sans, um… I have no record of it,” she simply said, pointing to the large ribbon printer on the desk down the hall.

He shambled over with his own cup of coffee, dark circles from lack of sleep under his eye sockets as he glared at the machine. Frowning, he took a sip, then turned suddenly. “like when i utilise the gridline?”

“Y-yes!” Alphys at least seemed more willing to cooperate with him now. She followed him down the hall and while she looked just as exhausted as he felt, she began loading up the monitor next to it, revealing a rather large map of Hotland.

“O-ok! So I, um, I don’t think that I’ve ever explained this before, but this traces little, um… we’ll say ‘glitches’, for now? It’s tied in with your… your magical signature, but it can be attuned to anything; from Mettaton, t-to the King, even if it’s kind of… buggy?”

“what, like a migosp?” Sans joked, leaning against the table. Then he was prompted to move away, which he begrudgingly obliged. Alphys fiddled with the mouse until it registered and she clicked a few things.

“H-here,” she indicated on the screen after a large gulp of coffee. “I h-haven’t really considered it fully, but things are… um, really screwy? Here-” she said again, tapping the screen.

Sans leaned in close to get a good look at it, the dark screen lighting up like an old stand-up video recorder with limited colours. The lines were pale but stark red x’s littered the screen when she browsed back between biomes. The further she went back to the Ruins, the more frequently the red indicators showed up.

“hm. an’ that’s all me?”

“I, I know what you’re probabllllly thinking-” she said nervously, tapping her claws against her mug as she quickly looked to him, then back to the screen. “I-it, it seems really nosy, right? I, I mean, with, um, with everything that’s been happening, I, um… I just wanted to make sure!”

“gotcha. so, uh… this mark. it has a date next to it.”

“Those are, well… confirmed by you.”

“oh.” He paused when he traced his fingertip towards one red x near the mountainside a few miles from the Ruins’ door. “`jumpin’ around`. i get it now.”

His eye lights followed a few more scattered around, ones he knew he’d either turned up or departed from. There was one he didn’t recognise just inside of the doors to the Ruins, in Snowdin Forest. He hummed softly in thought and tapped the screen.

“this isn’t me.”

She gawked at him for a moment and then giggled nervously as though he had said a joke. “W, well… naturally, unless the door’s been unlocked. A-and it’s been sealed shut for… ages!”

He was serious. He’d never been within the walls of the Ruins, nor was he even sure he would turn up in a safe space or not if he used a shortcut there. But Sans wasn’t sure if this was something to be alarmed over or not. But then, what if it was? Or perhaps it _was_ a glitch, like she said.

“so we got either a bug or an anomaly cruisin’ around behind closed doors. seems like somethin’ to keep an eye on.”

“I, um, I’m pretty sure it’s just a glitch, n-nothing to worry about! I haven’t been able to replicate it, though, so it’s this garbage program.”

Sans sighed quietly and stared at the screen until she panned it back to Hotland, then over the lab. With a double click, she brought up the overview of their current location and he had to snicker smugly when he saw a little red indicator over the elevator.

“Wh… why didn’t that print…” It seemed more of an astonished phrase than a query, so Sans let it be. He sipped at his coffee again, welcome for the hot sweet comfort the drink brought him.

Alphys began frantically tapping out on the keyboard, eventually draining the last of her mug while she muttered to herself. Information brought up on the screen was garbled and soon Sans was slowly inched out of the way as she worked, pushed away from the computer so she could focus. He saw her label it ‘timestamp?’ and then run down the hall to grab a chair, seemingly excited.

While he would’ve been more curious about it, Sans felt the need to go home, but at the same time he had things to get further into Hotland. Which he now realised with a veiled grimace that he would need to go to the Capital for some funds, first.

“hey, alph,” he called out nonchalantly. Sans watched as her claws danced over the keyboard and she appeared absorbed in her work, barely registering his voice. “welp, you have fun. thanks for the _meow_ vie night,” he chuckled and strolled away to grab his things for his trip to New Home.

* * *

Papyrus wasn’t sure what to do with himself, but _heck_ if he wasn’t going to try! It had been, if he was honest with himself, a trying few days since he and Sans had essentially made amends. It was a different story how it all played out however, that his brother was avoiding him in favour of his boyfriend. Not to get him wrong, Papyrus was happy Sans had found someone to entertai--no, to make him _happy,_ but everything still felt off. Disconnected. _Wrong._

Point in case: the morning when Sans had come back, smelling like smoke and charcoal. He merely grunted when Papyrus had greeted him with one of his best smiles and after grabbing a few things from the cupboards, Sans had left again. As difficult as it had been, Papyrus was _trying,_ and although Sans had mentioned that he was merely tired because he had been staying up late to watch over the bartender’s recovery, he knew his brother was distracted.

So it left Papyrus feeling as though he was brushed aside and unneeded. Their relationship still seemed rocky, even though he had hashed everything out. Even though Sans had apologised, he had also accused him of being wrong.

Which was preposterous! Erroneously forward and unsubjected to such claims the Great Papyrus has never yet before been! He practically _prided_ himself on being a hallmark of sequestered pragmatism, never before being accused of… of _lying_ when he was speaking truths, and…

The thought ended. Everything had crashed down. No, he was being foolish. He had admitted to being wrong, so why was Sans still upset with him? Perhaps he was not considering how Sans felt about everything with a clarity he was used to. Or perhaps Sans didn’t actually forgive him and until he thought things through, Papyrus was sure that his brother was keeping some form of distance. Hence the excuse that his boyfriend was ‘ill’. Whoever heard of a sick fire monster?? It was practically unheard of!

Racing along his thoughts was another handful of worries; of Undyne, her disappointment of his supposed crushing failure. Of Flowery’s disappearance, as much as it hurt losing a close friend, he wasn’t sure if he felt safe. At the same time, he felt suffocatingly lonely.

Ashamed. Conflicted.

He _wasn’t_ wrong, and he _hadn’t_ been defending his now not-so-best-friend’s actions. In fact, he wasn’t sure what the true reason was that said friend had visited Sans in his workshop in the first place. Considering the Barrier myth had been explained away by the brilliant Doctor Alphys, things no longer added up perfectly.

He wasn’t used to the puzzle pieces not lining up just so.

He considered calling and asking her if in fact what she’d said had been true. If it was perhaps some ruse made to placate him and to ensure he wouldn’t ‘freak out’ about his brother’s instability. But Sans’ instability had been an underlying condition far earlier than he could remember. Spanning back into their childhood, if he remembered correctly. Everything was dim and folded together, and the memories often didn’t make sense. Those times could hardly be used as a point of reference with confidence.

He brushed it under the proverbial rug for now. It wasn’t his brother’s instability he should be worried about - at least, not then. It should be that his brother had been seriously injured over a mistake. Or worse… if perhaps the mistake _hadn’t_ been a mistake at all…

He paced. He searched, his mind wandered over things to occupy himself with until he would just find himself staring off into the kitchen. Then he would dart out into the street, then back inside. Tugging on his scarf and strutting out of the house once more, Papyrus hadn’t been able to settle since his brother had left. Finally frustrated, he left the town entirely, at absolute wits’ end over his own circular thoughts.

Papyrus busied himself with calibrating puzzles in the forest for hours until his finger bones felt stiffened by the cold. Unfortunately, his mind had wandered to the point where he yelled into the treetops in frustration, sending those nearby to scattering. It was cathartic and Papyrus was able to let loose a great deal of stress from it, but he knew he had to return.

Things would not be the same until he and Sans got better about communicating. Slapping his face with both hands with a tight grin, he took several deep breaths as he marched down the street with purpose. Things would heal! A little bit at a time. They would be sneaky and in the end, things would be alright again and neither he nor Sans would know at which point things had begun to be ok again! But he would try!

He had to - because Sans had promised to try, too!

While Waterfall still held the same wonder for him after all these years, it seemed more… _creepy_ lately. The tall skeleton strode by puddles and pools glowing with ancient hues, bypassing several switches and puzzles by hopping over them in large strides. His rib cage housed a worrisome fear that perhaps Undyne wouldn’t hear of it, or would slam the door in his face again and he’d be forced to wait for some other time. Just on her doorstep.

She was in. In fact, she seemed in a cooler mood than before, her fiery gusto replaced with remorse as she puffed out her chest and folded her arms in front of her, waiting for him to bellow out any excuses for his hideously misguided behaviour.

She instead huffed out a loud sigh, allowing her arms to drop when she saw the broken and dejected look hidden against the skeleton’s features. She waved at him to come inside and when he didn’t, she grabbed him by the fabric draped around his neck and tugged him towards the door. She all but flung him inside.

“I ONLY NEED… IF YOU WOULD INDULGE ME… I DON’T KNOW WHERE ELSE TO GO. NOR TO SPEAK TO. A FRIEND. OR PEOPLE, I MEAN. I MEAN-”

Undyne’s posture tensed as she was affronted with the deluge of desperation in Papyrus’ tone. It looked like she was approaching one of her shouty moods, the skeleton thought, and he visibly flinched in preparation. Instead, her grip slackened as she pulled him at a gentler pace towards the kitchen table where he was made to sit.

A confused inquiry hanging from his mandible, Papyrus was cut off from breathing a word when she pointed at her mouth and gestured a zip, inferring that he keep quiet. Aghast and puzzled, he watched as she idly hummed, running the tap and filling a kettle.

“Listen, Papyrus,” she started quietly, “I lashed out the last we spoke. I was just so… SO-” She stopped, unable to put her finger on the right word. Instead, she slammed down the kettle on the stovetop, making Papyrus jump in his seat with the resounding bang. “I WAS SO DISAPPOINTED!!”

Papyrus flinched but kept the nervous grin on his face. If he said nothing at all, Undyne would cool down, right? Then he would surely have a moment to say what he had wanted, and to apologise for his lacklustre reporting duties. Perhaps she would even offer a hearty training session?? That wouldn’t be against any regulatory trusts, right?

“I just couldn’t BELIEVE that you, of all people…” She trailed off again, quiet. Her shoulders had haunched up and her grip was vice-like on the oven’s towel rack, betraying her tone. Papyrus could hear it creak as she flexed her fingers, the gills on her neck flaring with raw emotion. “Y’know what!? I believe in you, Papyrus! Y’got MOXIE! When the time comes, you DEFINITELY will show what you got! COMPASSION and CHARISMA!! Strength that’s leaps and bounds over anyone I’ve EVER seen!!”

The skeleton could feel his soul flutter with the recognition. He could just taste it! Perhaps he hadn’t tarnished his name as he’d thought and Undyne was considering letting him back into the Royal Guard (even if it had been a temporary position)!! He puffed out his chest, his arms straight and his grin wide and expectant.

Undyne whirled around to face him as the kettle began to steam behind her. “I just think… right now is maybe not the best time. There’s still a LOT of training I gotta put you through! SO much training, you don’t even know-” She winked, her shark-like grin full and wide. At least, Papyrus thought she winked; it seemed too long to be a regular blink but it didn’t make any noise like his own.

“DOES THIS MEAN-”

Undyne suddenly threw up a hand, using her other arm to cross over her chest. “A second chance for a… second chance?” Her grin widened even more if it were possible. “I can’t stay mad at you, ya dork! Besides, I need all the help I can get.” She sighed as she leaned against the counter, pausing to size him up. “What I’m sayin’ is that… I’m sorry for losing my cool. I stand by my decision, but I don’t want to discourage you. Not EVER! I know how you feel about the Guard, Papyrus - hell, EVERYONE knows! You got passion for DAYS-”

“WEEKS! MONTHS! YEARS!” Papyrus all but shouted back excitedly, her words rekindling the desire for his dream. “ALL DECADES. CENTENNIAL AND MILLENNIAL PASSIONS WILL BE MINE FOR THE TAKING!”

Undyne barked out a laugh, slapping her knee. “That’s the SPIRIT! Like I said, y’got time. Just… not RIGHT now, ok? Too many things happening all at once. That being said… if you happened to see anything outta place, you let me know, ok? But in the meantime, I gotta be able to focus on ya! Which’s why, I was going to offer you a weekly regimen.” Papyrus covered his teeth with a barely-contained gasp. Undyne could practically see the sparkle in his eye sockets. “It’s gonna focus on DISCIPLINE, so you better be ready, punk!”

Papyrus nodded so vigorously that Undyne wasn’t sure just how the other’s skull remained fixed on his shoulders, but shrugged the thought away when the kettle behind her began to screech. She knew that this was only a placating gesture of sorts. She couldn’t really allow him into the Guard… not a gentle soul like him. She fixed a cup of tea for them both, knowing that Papyrus’ visit had more to it than what she had to get off her chest.

In fact, Sans’ sick days were worrying her. He barely eked by with the shifts she _did_ give him, but when he had started ignoring his phone or when Papyrus had called her saying that he suddenly wasn’t feeling well, Undyne’s first suspicions had been that he was playing hookie. Trudging by, bundled in her warmest clothes weeks earlier, Undyne had scouted Snowdin and the surrounding forest to find that Sans had actually looked far worse than she had ever seen him. First depleted of magic, then stressed, agitated and restless.

Then the avalanche… She remained in her thoughts and even then, seemed angry about it. Her grin twitched and she brought the tea up for a sip as she sat down, sliding Papyrus’ drink over to him with a loud sigh.

“Alright… out with it.”

Papyrus was watching her, attention rapt. It was always curious to see the broad spectrum of emotions the captain could switch through in a matter of seconds to minutes. She was always passionate and caring, excited like he was. On a brighter note, she shared his raucous laugh and even egged him on to tasks most would scoff at. She even pushed him past his limits!!

So when she was this quiet, it was something to consider. He tapped his fingertips against the old blue porcelain mug, the soft _tink_ piercing the tense silence.

“MY BROTHER AND I HAVE HAD A SORT OF… ARGUMENT. OVER… HIS HEALTH LATELY-” he fibbed, feeling how sweat was collecting under his scarf. He pulled at it and readjusted the drape to cover his vertebrae more easily. “WHILE HE HAS FORGIVEN ME AND… THINGS ARE OK NOW, I’M ALRIGHT! I JUST… FEEL VERY TENSE LATELY? AND WITH HIM THE WAY HE IS, AND HIS BOYFRIEND, AND…” More tapping.

Undyne waited for him to continue, looking up from her own mug as she twirled the contents and blew on the tea to help it cool. “I’ve never known you two to fight. Gotta tussle?” she suggested, pointing to the other with a smug grin. “He’s been in a mood lately. I didn’t think it had anything to do with being sick, y’know?”

Papyrus nodded absently. “YES… AND NOW. ALTHOUGH IT IS NOT WITHOUT QUANDARY, I FEEL LIKE… I DON’T KNOW? IN THE WAY? IT’S NOT AS THOUGH I’M FEELING REPLACED OR ANYTHING-” He rushed through his words and then hesitated, the look on his face almost horrified for the pause. “I DON’T! THAT’S A HORRIBLE THING TO SUGGEST. IT’S JUST THAT… HE’S NOT EVER AT HOME. AND SINCE THE WHOLE…” He gestured vaguely, posture slumping, “ACCIDENT WEEKS AGO, I FEEL LIKE HE’S AVOIDING ME.”

Undyne leaned her head on a fist and exhaled hotly. Well, _that_ wouldn’t do. “I SINCERELY doubt that, Papyrus,” she muttered as she played with the tea bag’s string in her mug. “Your brother adores you. I doubt ANYONE could replace you, regardless of how smitten he is with that cook. You mentioned you had a fight? How’d it shake down? Did you actually TALK about it, or were you rambling?”

“I THINK YOU WILL FIND THAT UNDER MOST CIRCUMSTANCES, I MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT HAVE A PENCHANT FOR RAMBL-”

“Point in case, ya goof!” Undyne flared, her grin twitching as she pounded the table with a closed fist. It nearly cracked from the force and she gave in to a guttural laugh. “Whatever the argument was-” she waved her hand dismissively, “-and I don’t need the director’s cut, that’s not important. What’s important is how you two idiots FEEL about the aftershock!”

“AFTER-”

“I got advice, so LISTEN UP!” she crowed, pointing a finger at him with her mug, “Remember what I SAID?? About COMMUNICATION? Chances are you’re missing something that’s right in front of your nose!”

“WE DON’T HAVE NOS-”

She cut him off again, “-SEMANTICS! At any rate, you two dorks apologised right? Regardless who was wrong and who was right, that’s somethin’ you BOTH gotta do!”

Papyrus stared at her, his body tense. He hadn’t even taken one sip from his tea during their discussion. “HE DID-”

“MEANING,” Undyne figured, shrugging as tea spilled from one side of her mug with the movement, “if you say that, it means that he probably feels a little dejected.”

Papyrus felt embarrassed. “WHAT? WHY!?” he demanded, leaning across the table with a horrified look on his face.

Undyne sighed, resisting the urge to full on yell at the guy again. Instead, she fussed with her hair briefly before snorting derisively. “I mean, you DID apologise, right?”

The skeleton sat upright, teeth clamped shut. He seemed to be searching for something in front of him, bewildered of how he could have missed it. Of course! How was he so blind - and with his own brother, too! He downed half of the tea in one gulp, pushing himself up as though to stand. Undyne, however, had other ideas and tugged him down by his scarf, spilling the tea as the weight of her fist and Papyrus crashing into the table sent splinters flying.

“That’s what I THOUGHT!” she growled lowly, then laughed, flinging the skeleton back. He landed in his seat again, watching her in confusion. “Ok, so how about this, then. He’s been mopey-”

“HE DOESN-”

“-and running around, well… not running, but goin’ around acting like things are ok, because let’s face it, the guy holds a lot of shit inside for a monster that doesn’t need a toilet-”

“UNDYNE!!”

“Yeah, whatever - ANYWAY, it’s less like how you think he doesn’t need you, and more like he’s waiting for you to admit you’re OWNING responsibility, or acknowledging your fault in the argument. It takes two to tango like that, so both sides have to own up. Like I said, I don’t need details. I’m just picking up what you’re putting down, here.”

Papyrus stared at the tea collected on the table, very aware of what he needed to do next. Of course. He hadn’t apologised - it wasn’t as though he had been doing it on purpose. It just… no, he couldn’t say that it hadn’t come up. His pride had halted him from commiserating with Sans’ feelings and in the end, made him feel poisoned with remorse.

And the look that Sans gave him when he left earlier only hurt more when he now realised that his brother was waiting this whole time for him to say something to that effect. That Sans likely felt as though Papyrus was angry with him, still. Or even worse, that he didn’t care that his friend had likely tried to harm him.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Papyrus leaned over the table, not caring that his elbows prickled with splintered wood. Undyne merely continued her tea, pleased with herself at least that she was able to help in this instance. It was the least she could do for shattering this poor goof’s heart weeks before.

“I’m sorry you feel cast off. Really, it’s like the Underground’s worst kept secret Sans stays at Grillby’s more than he stays at home!” She gave in to another shrug and downed the rest of her tea. Then she rolled the rim between her thumb and forefinger in thought. “Y’know I don’t mean to brush off your feelings, right?”

“I HADN’T CONSIDERED IT IN THE SLIGHTEST!!” Papyrus boomed.

“Tea.”

“OH! YES, OF COURSE-”

“Now, what I MEAN, is your brother’s into some pretty new stuff. New to him, when it’s always been you two together, right?” She rubbed over her arm and sighed loudly. “I get what you’re thinking! You’re not being brushed aside, Sans wouldn’t DREAM of doing that. His attention might be split, sure, but that happens when you’re…” She glanced to the side and Papyrus wondered at the very subtle way her gills and complexion reddened. “WELL. I’m SURE I don’t need to spell it out for such a great guy like you!”

The skeleton straightened himself and very nearly toppled over his own mug, nodding vigorously. He had a lot to think about!

Leave it to Undyne to settle his worries! While not altogether, no, but all drawn up in a bow, it gave Papyrus further insight as to how his brother might be feeling. Under threat, yes. Also, his attention is not always in the present! Alright! He understood. Also, that new and interesting things were happening, and not always bad! There was good in there!

And he was learning. Papyrus couldn’t help but beam as he exited the captain’s house in a far better mood than he’d been all week. While he knew in his heart and soul that he owed Sans an apology, he also hoped that in the future he could retain the knowledge to better understand others’ emotions.

He flew home, his boots kicking up wet mulchy soil and sending blue petals to drifting as he darted past. The whisper of _hope_ rang in his head and Papyrus felt elevated enough to start a clear top to bottom clean of the entire house for when Sans got home.

It was hours before his brother returned. Much later, in fact, that Papyrus had settled down into a more mellow mood. He had attempted something a little different for dinner and was preoccupied in the kitchen when he heard the front door open, then close.

This was it. What he had been waiting the entire day for!

Instead of feeling excitement, however, the silence from the other room made him feel wary and unsure. Papyrus leaned ever-so-slightly away from the stove to peer out of the kitchen, a thunder of trepidation falling over him when he saw his brother.

Head to toe. Drenched. Eye sockets void of light, looking like he was carrying the world’s heaviest weight. As though it had tipped the scales just enough, his rucksack slipped from his arm and landed with a slushy _plop_ on the floor.

Papyrus’ immediate reaction had to been to run over and grab his brother in a tight hug and apologise right away. Instead, his teeth parted and he automatically belted across the room; “SANS!!! MY CARPETS!!”

As though it jolted the other out of his thoughts, Sans sprung to life and grabbed the bag off the floor, eye lights alert and looking around before they settled on Papyrus. Then his expression softened as he trudged across the living room, leaving wet footprints in his wake.

“YOU’RE SOAKING WET!” Papyrus lamented as Sans planted himself into a chair at the kitchen table. He let the bag drop to the floor, but stooped to rifle through it. “WHAT HAPPENED!?”

Sans began unloading his bag, his face fixed in a grimace. “uh. kinda misjudged a puddle,” he muttered excusingly, piling what appeared to be plastic bags of something chipped and brown. He inspected each one before setting the bags on the table, then threw Papyrus a concerned look. “…you ok?”

Papyrus caught himself thumbing at his sleeves and abruptly stopped to help his brother unburden his bag. Once everything was inspected for water damage (which one book had not survived, sadly), Sans leaned back in his chair and sighed to himself. He hadn’t gotten an answer from Papyrus and he was exhausted from the day. The other had stared at him before going back to check the pot, which smelled different than their usual supper.

In fact, he knew something was up when Papyrus didn’t say anything about the bags of chipped wood and spices that he’d put on the table. Nor anything about one wrapped in a black garbage bag for protection; it was a shame he didn’t have the foresight with Alphys’ textbook. Grimacing to himself as he peeled his drenched hoodie from his shoulders, Sans watched as Papyrus tended to the stove. Already there was a column of smoke starting from whatever was burning.

That was peculiar. Things didn’t normally burn. Papyrus was always attentive to his cooking excursions. He now shuffled from one foot to the other, fussing over the fiercely bubbling pot. With his brother preoccupied, Sans slipped off his chair and kicked off his slippers under the table, hanging around his brother as he watched him.

“papyrus.”

It was as though Sans had been waiting for him to turn, to say something to excuse himself. Papyrus was wrought with every emotion fathomable, from an unsatiated need to explain himself, to belting out his apologies, to pleading with him that he had never meant to cause Sans mental anguish. That he was on his side, through thick and thin-

Sans must’ve seen it on his face, as the shorter skeleton threw his arms around him tightly. His clothing was still wet and cold from his journey through Waterfall, but the embrace was warm and accepting all the same. It didn’t quell the need to apologise, but it calmed Papyrus on such a level that any and all words stopped before they erupted from his mouth.

His arms encircled Sans’ shoulders in turn, the tension releasing from his body as he heard his brother laugh quietly. He squeezed, and Sans held him tightly in response. It was comfortable and heartwarming that his brother still wanted contact, still wanted to be close to him even if he had someone else in his life.

The hug extinguished those thoughts, and Papyrus held onto Undyne’s advice earlier that day just as tightly as he was hugging Sans. When more chuckles escaped his brother, he squeezed tighter still, until Sans was cracking up.

“i really missed you,” he mumbled between them, still giggling.

“I’M SO SORRY, BROTHER,” Papyrus was having a difficult time reining in his emotions, trying to stifle the amount in which he began to shake. “I WASN’T THINKING, AND YOU HAD EVERY RIGHT TO-”

Meanwhile Sans, composed now, glad to be home and ready to forgive, quietly hushed him. His hold was still tight but gentle as the two of them ignored their quickly burning supper. “it’s ok, bro. we’re good. everything’s good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny how the Papyrus part of this chapter was written as chapter 58, but it kept being pushed as other things played out. I think that it flows better in this chapter, and WHOO!! Finally the bros make up in actuality. TToTT


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem normal, until Sans finds Grillby's completely empty. The shopkeeper arrives to dispel any worries before they become too much and leads him to the Snowed Inn, where Grillby is staying, albeit worse for wear. Sans helps to care for the ailing flame and ends up highly flustered.

Although he wasn’t sure what had spurred Papyrus into apologising, Sans wasn’t about to look too deeply into it. His brother looked absolutely worn out, dark circles under his eye sockets, his body wrung tight and nervous. Yet at the same time, relief flooded off from him in waves and Sans smiled at him when they parted. Papyrus had attempted more of his apology but Sans just grinned to himself and helped him to clear off the table for dinner.

It was easy to fall into routine again. Although the two of them were tentatively nervous, it was good to be back in better spirits. Sans laboriously ate a bowl of half-burned cheese tortellini with a generous garnishment of sliced eggplant which Papyrus insisted was edible. Sans thought otherwise but piled it into his mouth until he couldn’t bear it anymore.

Eventually Papyrus made him go upstairs afterwards, suggesting a bath after gathering his things off the counter while he cleaned up. Even though he felt sheepish in doing so, Sans lingered by the door, on the edge of thanking the other. Instead, when Papyrus looked over, Sans gave him an easy smile and trotted away upstairs to bathe, leaving his treasures in his room. He’d have to go check on Grillby later, he figured.

His bath was a little longer than usual, but much hotter. Wafts of steam drifted up from the water as he sunk back and under the surface. The day had been long and while not too many people in the capital paid him any mind, his nerves were frayed from being on edge the entire time. The trip through Waterfall hadn’t been difficult, but he had been in a bad headspace the journey through so much, that echo flowers belting out their secrets along the way rattled him.

He was not looking forward to engaging in any more talking flowers, to say the very least.

Trapped in his reverie, he didn’t notice when his brother had opened the door briefly to set out a clean set of pyjamas until he was finished and staring at the mirror. He had changed a lot from when he had looked into it last. Sure, he was tired. He was always tired. But there were key differences he saw in himself then that he didn’t see before. He figured it was likely due to his willingness to reach out, however small bit at a time, to let people get closer to him.

And dare he entertain the thought, to love.

His brow quirked with that and he held back a chuckle, although he could feel it threatening to break the silence. Everything had changed, yet nothing at all - it was merely revealed a little to him, bit by bit, like a fortune puzzle whose flaps could be pulled back after each selection. It was a little frightening, but he would just have to deal with it. His attention was drawn to the flicker behind his ribs and the telltale glow of his soul and how it was different. Not much more than before, but there was an extended beat that pulsed brighter just when it faded with his circulation.

Hesitation made sense. Letting people get close was difficult after what he’d been through.

Wrapping up the thought, Sans threw his towel over his skull to quickly dry off before his brother came pounding on the door. He then got dressed in the pyjamas laid out for him and retreated to his room.

Papyrus had cleaned. He half-expected him to have done so, but was a little relieved that some things remained untouched. The broken lamp had been pieced together and righted on his dresser, as silly as that was. The floor had been vacuumed. The wallpaper was in less shambles, but Papyrus had painted the pattern to match on the wall where he couldn’t replace. And as much as he’d expressed verbal disgust at Sans’ sheets, his bed had been made.

Sans couldn’t help but grin, the weight of everything swelling in his chest again.

Nothing had changed. Papyrus was the same as he’d always been. Looking out for him, treasuring his family. The greatest brother and the sweetest person he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. Not without his faults, but Sans wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Was it possible to feel both good and horrible at the same time? At fault for how he acted, yet feeling so blessed he had such a person to look after him? While at the same time, frustrated over the complications of what had happened.

Even when he had went to sit down on his bed, it felt wrong. Instead, Sans exited his room to go downstairs and join his brother on the couch to watch whatever was on. It was more to be in his company than anything else. While the show played, Papyrus had shifted ever so slightly to be closer and Sans rested his skull against the other’s shoulder. The two didn’t speak a word until Papyrus spoke up, quieter than usual.

“I’M SORRY FOR NOT CONSIDERING YOUR FEELINGS IN ALL THIS-”

“it’s ok, paps.”

“IT’S NOT OK!! IT’S ACTUALLY THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF OK??”

“you know what i mean.” Sans grimaced despite himself.

“YOU HAD SAID YOU WERE SCARED-” Papyrus hesitated, “I UNDERSTAND NOW. I’M SORRY, HONESTLY-”

Sans sighed softly and leaned up to survey the other. The blanket from the back of the couch had made its way around their shoulders and Papyrus was fidgeting with the loose threads. He knew what Papyrus meant when he brought it up.

“pap, i know you’re worried. i love ya, but you know we can’t report it. you know what could happen if we do. what _would_ happen.”

The silence that followed spoke volumes instead. Papyrus nodded to himself over the memory of the treatment Sans was subjected to when the news of his low health got out in New Home. That, and his panic when Grillby had found out, the conclusion of what that meant… It was very likely Sans still harboured panic inside should the bartender slip up and anyone else found out, but he wasn’t going to be the one to put thoughts to words.

It stood out in his mind so clearly. It started with someone who had seen him trip; Sans had really slammed his shoulder into the ground, and hard. A hairline fracture in his clavicle, but otherwise Sans was fine, laughing it off despite the awkward grimace that tugged at his eye sockets. But the monster that had seen him stumble had done what anyone would’ve done and Checked him as he was extended a hand. Sans froze. Papyrus had helped him up. The monster stared, but showed signs that they were suddenly very uncomfortable.

Then they spoke; _‘Don’t you think it’s cruel to be parading him around like that, when he could turn to dust at any moment?? Have you no shame? He should be at rest, not lingering on because you can’t let go! Go, take him home! People don’t want to see him dying in the streets when he can barely walk-’_

The recollection ended there, but Papyrus still felt the hurt all this time later. Instinctively, he grabbed Sans in the present moment and hugged him, causing his brother to grunt in surprise.

“we’re ok, bro,” he mumbled quietly. “it’s been one helluva week, though.”

Although the couch was its usual level of uncomfortable, Sans leaned against his brother as he did the same. He reassured him that everything would be fine, that things would blow over and that he forgave him even though he didn’t blame him at all. Papyrus whispered apologies intermittently until his voice eventually grew thick and they both fell asleep.

The morning after crept up on Sans but it shook him when he fell from the side of the couch with a pained grunt. He groaned in protest with the day’s light and the sounds of Papyrus flurrying about, bickering to himself like nothing would stop him.

Sans crawled up and sat in front of the coffee table as sleep continued to lull him with its sweet spell. Despite how awkward things had been, Sans felt like it was before, dozing as Papyrus thundered around in his boots while doing something noisy in the kitchen. Sans nodded off, slumped over the coffee table with his skull cradled in the crook of his arm.

When he woke again, it was to the subtle yet sweet scent of oatmeal in front of him. Pulled closer to consciousness, Sans turned his head, noticing a paper stuck to his skull when he opened one eye socket. Waking up was always an ordeal but it felt easier to do this time, like he was unburdened and fully rested. Hell, he didn’t even recall dreaming. He was just relaxed. A rarity, but he’d take it.

Peeling off the sticky note from his brow, he rubbed at one eye socket as he read it. Papyrus was out training with Undyne today. Have oatmeal for breakfast. Have a good day, and do his best. He grinned and despite the bowl of oatmeal being somewhat cement-like in texture, he scarfed it down so he could be on his way.

Sans got dressed into fresh clothes, since his favourites were still damp from the night before: full track pants and a shirt that had the beautifully sarcastic ‘beauty is skin-deep’ screen printed onto it in ugly yellow on grey jersey. Since it was the day he didn’t usually patrol, Sans took his time getting ready to check in on Grillby. He really hoped that the poor guy was doing alright. He checked his phone and noted how there hadn’t been a reply to his message from the previous afternoon, nor had it been read. Sighing to himself, Sans donned his slippers and shuffled down the hall with his bags in a different rucksack to transport to his ill boyfriend.

He figured Grillby’s was closed that day, but every time he approached the building when it was _supposed_ to be open made his soul shrink against itself. It didn’t make him feel any better when he heard the whines of kids nearby expressing their desire for tasty food or a hot room. Nor did the discomfort he felt at visiting the capital by himself lighten his internal struggle to jump to a more positive conclusion as to why Grillby hadn’t answered.

The skeleton looked up with a soft sigh. Although there should have been a pinprick of light upstairs, like when he had left, today there was none.

His entire body went ice cold.

Even though the restaurant was closed and _did_ have a note on the door before, it wasn’t there now. Testing the handle gave way too easily when Sans pushed the door to go inside. He was breaking in again, although he was certain… when he had left, he’d locked the door, right? To make sure that the neighbourhood kids didn’t open it or leave it adjar to let the precious warmth outside?

It was a lot chillier inside than he remembered it being the first time through. In fact, despite his ever-increasing worry that something bad must’ve happened, Sans remained relatively calm. On the inside, his soul was beating harshly, every footfall in the dark parlour kicking up soot and panic. His soul trembled when he remembered Grillby telling him he wouldn’t be able to spare the warmth if his window was shattered. Had something happened?

He’d just go upstairs to make sure the fire monster was alright. Check up on him, maybe he’d try circulating their magic again to get his temperature up. Breathing shallowly, Sans made his way past the deserted kitchen and upstairs. The second floor showed signs of movement, mainly along the floorboards where a scorched trail led to the stairs. It was as though dragged, but… had it always been there?

It was cold upstairs too.

Sans put the thought from his head as he followed from where the marks came from, his soul giving in to quiet little shocks of fear when he didn’t hear any hearty crackle of fire. He couldn’t see any flicker of light. There was absolute silence and void of heat.

Sans heard a subtle noise that made him jump before he realised that he was rattling in fright. He tried to send a message to Grillby’s phone once more, his magic welling up in his soul.

He was probably fine. Just out.

Doing what?

Doing… something. And he was alright. He was perfectly fine. Grillby himself had assured him that he only needed a few days to recuperate, after all-

“Oh!”

Sans almost dropped his phone at the intruding voice with a startled grunt. But instead of reacting, he froze on the spot. He knew very well he had been caught red-handed in Grillby’s suite and he slowly turned, his left eye socket flaring briefly until he recognised just who had stumbled onto him unawares.

It was Bonnie, the shop bunny from down the road. She was bundled in a thickly padded blue overcoat with flocked mittens. In her arms she held a big stack of fabric.

Sans stood dumbly, waiting for an answer. Then his gaze settled on what he recognised as the fire monster’s blankets, his expression shifting to mild confusion.

“Pity you missed him! Poor dove. He really was out of sorts when we came to check,” Bonnie offered as she approached him. “Didn’t fancy you pokin’ in while he was out. Did ya forget somethin’, hun?”

Sans was still eyeing the bundle of blankets in the other’s arms with something of a reproachful look. Grillby had gone? Really? Of course. Why was this a difficult situation for him to handle? The questions rolling around in his head must’ve been clear as day for her to see, since she tutted with pity and jerked her head to the side, towards the hall.

“Why not come with? He mentioned not feelin’ too well and that he was, hm. Heatsunk?” She laughed softly with a shrug, “`Fraid I don’t know too much about Hotland monsters to figure what he means, but he’s written some things down for me. Ingrid has him housed in one of her rooms for the time being.”

“is he really, uh…” _that bad?_ he wanted to ask, but stopped himself short. Bonnie’s eyes softened and her smile seemed almost sad. His soul did a sickening lurch. Had he misjudged? Had Grillby really been so bad that he needed a constant vigil to make sure he was recovering? Sans didn’t get it; the fire monster had been _healing._ His health had been on the incline. So what was with the need for intervention now?

“Oh, hun! I didn’t mean to make you worry! Here - help me with these ol’ blankets. Take care not to drag them or we won’t be able to use `em. Ya don’t happen to know what-” she wriggled her nose in thought, _“-`pascols`_ are, do you?”

Sans snapped to attention when she held out the pile of blankets for him to take and he nodded dumbly, leading the way to the kitchen to rifle through the pantry and select a few woody parscoals to bring.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that he _couldn’t_ slip, but Sans felt as though every tiny patch of ice was out to get him between Grillby’s restaurant and the Snowed Inn. He followed Bonnie to the hotel without slipping, its brightly lit windows on the first floor glaring out onto the snowy street.

The difference between the interior and outside was subtle, and not because it was warmer inside. Sans detected an almost sour note in the air but couldn’t put his finger on why that was. He wasn’t able to focus on the feeling but instead followed Bonnie upstairs with his cargo, each step creaking alongside the homey sounds of snoozing above.

The room he was led to was on the second floor of three, in reach of the bunnies’ quarters and in the middle so there was no threat of windows or heat loss. Sans lingered outside of the door when Bonnie cracked it open to check, then sighed almost in exasperation when she pushed it all the way open.

Even though he was trying very desperately not to panic or worry, Sans craned his head around briefly to check inside. He saw a wavering glow of a fireplace on one end of the room and a pile of bunnies huddled on the bed not too far from it, but nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, he wasn’t sure if it was all the heat sources in the room confusing him. The shop bunny was making soft disparaging noises to what he believed to be either her or her sister’s children. The tension broke as Sans felt comfortable enough to enter.

He assumed that he was allowed, at least. Her gesture for him to come forward was met with very business-like organisation as he was relieved of the blankets. As he approached, he realised what the unassuming lump on the bed was.

Grillby, although not quite in the shape that Sans last recalled him being, swathed in heat-discoloured blankets with his shape shifting ever so subtly as he breathed. Four young bunnies huddled close to him, looking dozy and softly whining when the shopkeeper told them to get up.

Sans remained quiet, although a thousand questions slammed around in his skull as he took in how low Grillby’s flames were. He had to remind himself that the fire monster’s composure lessened while he was sleeping, but he didn’t recall his body ever being _smaller._ In fact, it appeared the poor monster was having a difficult time retaining his usual form. Sans realised that the sour smell, almost akin to Hotland’s limestone caverns, lingered in the air more heavily here.

“how long’s he been like this?” he finally found the voice to ask. He kept his tone neutral despite how the worry gnawed at him inside.

“Coupla days, maybe more. When was last y’saw `im?” Bonnie asked kindly as she unfolded one of the sick monster’s blankets and threw it into the fireplace without a care.

Sans stared at Grillby, his feet unable to move an inch from where he stood. “`bout three days ago?” he replied numbly, his voice sounding a little strained.

Two of the children slid from the side of the bed while yawning while the other two gently patted the resting monster’s blanketed back before retreating out of the room. It took a little more coaxing for the last of Bonnie’s children to leave before she approached the bed, ushering him over.

“He’s been sleepin’ a lot, but I think he’s doing just fine. A Hotland monster ain’t supposed to be out here in the cold and wet, after all. He mentioned insulation an’ kindling - suppose that’s what his blankets and parsicles are for?”

“parscoal. an’ yeah,” Sans agreed numbly, finally finding his feet enough to get nearer. Grillby was sleeping, although he looked in far worse shape than he’d previously seen him. His fire was more of a wisp now and occasionally little embers popped off from him like glowing gnats.

Quietly, Sans sat on the edge of the mattress and laid his hand on the other’s covered back, sending out a silent inquiry, just to make sure.

> **[ * GRILLBY 26 ATK 3 DEF  
>  ** *** A little under the weather. ]**
> 
> **[ * 942HP ]**

“Poor guy,” Bonnie murmured as she took off her coat, fanning herself as though the heat was too much. She was standing closest to the fireplace, whose blaze envied the fire monster’s sleeping form. No doubt she felt the brunt of it and she sighed heavily, redonning her thick mittens as she turned towards the hearth. “Clear the way, hun.”

Sans watched as she quickly reached into the blaze to a handled cast-iron skillet that smoked and glowed a dull red. She was grimacing, but she managed to grab the blanket from inside as well, its Hotland properties allowing it to absorb the fire’s heat instead of being consumed by it. She gestured for Sans to move the quilt covering the fire monster as she huffed under the heat.

Sans wordlessly obeyed, working quickly as he pulled the quilt from Grillby’s body. He forced himself to the side when the other’s body came into view, how smaller he looked and how even his hands had no real shape to them anymore. They were akin to molten glass and steamed where they lay. Sans stayed petrified to the spot.

“Move `im! C’mon, my fur’s gonna burn at this rate!” she hissed, yet still tried to sound accommodating.

Sans wasn’t quite sure how to handle Grillby in this state, but automatically went for the other’s arm to lift him off the bed. A subtle flicker went through his form as his blaze awoke and the other sighed softly, it sounding more like a boiling hiss. Bonnie quickly lay the blanket down when Sans pulled Grillby up, holding him against him. She then adjusted it so the skillet of coals were approximately where the fire monster’s torso would be when he lay back down.

“hang in there, grillbz,” Sans mumbled when he felt the fire monster move against him a little, his flames hiking up sleepily at being disturbed.

“Lay him down here an’ make sure his core is over the pan,” the shopkeeper instructed gently but firmly, and gestured for him to do so. She dare not touch Grillby; it was a wonder how the fire monster had made it over in the first place, Sans thought.

Grillby’s voice wheezed as though in pain when he was shifted and Sans clenched his teeth together in concern. He wasn’t sure what the proper thing to do was, so just had to follow what instructions he was given to ensure Grillby could be treated. It must’ve been the right thing to do, as when the other lay down, Bonnie quickly took one side of the steaming-hot blanket and threw it over the bartender, his body kindling a lot brighter with the touch.

“There we are!” she said excitedly, plucking the overly toasty mittens from her paws once more and drawing her arm across her muzzle.

A low, sleepy noise of protest came from the prone monster and Sans grinned down at him, his nerves swallowing up any questions he had. He was only glad that Grillby’s flames seemed to be building up. They were deep red in colour until he breathed in, then they would flutter to deep orange and back again.

“Will have to change that in about an hour. I’ll try to find more coal and another pot. I gotta see to the kids’ lunch, but you try to feed him somethin’ when he wakes up, yeah?” Bonnie suggested as she gathered up her coat and mittens. “Thanks for helpin’!”

“yeah,” Sans replied automatically, his gaze not leaving the ill fire monster. Then she was gone.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do. Although Grillby definitely had more health than when he had checked earlier, his constitution was still lacking. It made Sans uneasy despite the other’s reassurances that he would be fine after a few days’ rest.

He allowed his bag to fall to his side as he tucked the other monster in further, feeling just how warm the blanket had gotten in the few minutes it had spent in the fireplace. It dawned on Sans that it was an elemental fire, not a magical one. No wonder Bonnie had been in a hurry.

He hoped it would be enough.

Although his day had started off relatively well, Sans’ mood had dipped down. He listened to the soft crackles and pops emanating from the fire monster to help soothe his nerves. He wasn’t sure about all of this suddenly. He had to be ok, right?

As though to make sure, the skeleton placed his hand on the other’s, which had taken up an odd lumpy formation, imitating fingers yet not. They flexed under his hand and his grin tightened at the way his soul leapt with hope that the other was actually feeling a little better.

As the hour passed, Sans kept a vigil watch over Grillby, filling the empty room with gentle reassurances that he was doing well and that he was glad he was ok. He rubbed at his back although he felt peculiar for it, all of him feeling helpless yet hopeful as Grillby’s flames kindled lighter as time went on.

Bonnie briefly returned to put another pot of coals into the fireplace, asking him a few questions as she did so. How Grillby had gotten sick in the first place, why Sans hadn’t bothered to tell anyone or fetch a healer. Each question panged at his soul and he grew silent, knowing the reasons why, but not wanting any more of the blame out in the open. It was bad enough he felt at fault for the bartender’s ill health. Why give anyone else a reason to blame him too?

It was a selfish thought, but his nonetheless. Sans stayed quiet up until she left, having swapped out the skillet the fire monster had been laying on with the freshly heated one.

This time when the shopkeeper left, Grillby sighed long, his body fanning out and filling the bed as though every bit of him was flooded with relief. Even though Sans couldn’t be sure, he thought he heard the fire monster speak within his flames.

_‘……………Gone……… yet………?’_

It was vastly different than an audible voice, much akin to how the skeleton figured it out when he needed to cycle his magic. Sans leaned forward, wrapping his arm around the other’s back and scooting closer without encroaching upon the bed. He noted how the other’s mouth was a low glowing crack and his eyes were softly casted. He was absolutely _not_ well and Sans felt again the pang of guilt for not going to get a healer when he first saw him like this.

“yeah, she’s headed out. gotta keep watch on her shop. how’re you holdin’ up?” Sans asked quietly, his phalanges rubbing gentle strokes up and down the other’s back.

Grillby’s flames kindled a little higher and with them came a brightness Sans found he’d missed. The crack of his mouth parted in a sharp rasp but no words came forth, only another garbled hiss of steam.

Then something else whispered from him; _‘………Hotter.’_

Sans grinned, his hand itching to go further up to caress through the flames on Grillby’s head. His fingers lingered at his nape as he drew idly, breathing a sigh of relief. “m’glad.” After a moment’s pause, the skeleton continued, “i got the goods, by the way.”

Grillby’s mouth quirked up in a soft smile, his body jerking in the way Sans found he did when he suppressed a laugh. It made him feel a little comforted to have Grillby interacting, when the first hour ‘alone’ seemed irreparably dire.

Sans’ hand lingered over the other’s while his other slid away from Grillby’s neck to grab his bag and bring it into his lap. “kinda took the extra precaution not to get `em wet. i would’ve been over yesterday, but, uh. i kinda puddled myself and didn’t think you’d appreciate it.”

Grillby moved slightly, drawing his hand away from Sans’. The other caught the movement just in time to see the fire monster gesture, a weary smile tugging the corners of his mouth; _‘Thank you-’_ then a couple of abridged signs that were peculiar.

Sans stared at him for a moment before it dawned on him very suddenly what Grillby meant by them. Of course, since his voice was plagued by exhaustion and excess moisture, he had resorted to using Hands. It had been awhile, but Sans felt his face flood with embarrassment of what he realised was a new pet name for him.

As his face burned bashfully, Sans saw the other’s grin strengthen. The fire monster held up one finger as his blaze kindled a little more as though pleased, then he pointed to himself.

“no, that doesn’t count,” Sans muttered, still flustered as the sign-name ‘love bone’ repeated in his skull. Stubbornly, he turned to face the smirking fire monster, his soul hammering like a drum. Then, because to be honest he wasn’t quite good with Hands himself, he gestured clumsily; _‘sky fire.’_

Sans saw the way the creeping colours of gold and yellow flitted briefly through Grillby’s flames and he grinned in triumph, despite still feeling flush. Sans rifled through his bag as he took out the parscoal and plastic baggies of wood chips, dried plant matter, spices and medicine.

“kinda took me awhile to find the, uh,” Sans squinted at one bag in particular, eyeing the red powdery contents with a frown, “redsel? everything else was pretty much easy to get ahold of.”

He turned back to Grillby with a sheepish grin, unable to meet the other’s eyes. There was that feeling of being happy yet guilty again, he thought awkwardly.

“listen, g,” he started softly, his tone a lot more serious than his nonchalant drawl before, “m’sorry `bout my, uh… gettin’ you sick.” He paused to bring his other hand down and started to untie the plastic bag at the top. “i wasn’t thinkin’ straight and i hate that i-”

He stopped when he felt something warm touch his arm with a squeeze. When he looked up, Grillby was giving it his all to shake his head; as exhausted as he looked, there was a fierceness in his eyes that spoke volumes. Then, of course, those tiny little notes when his fire bristled that almost, but not quite, imitated speech…

Sans found himself staring.

 _‘Not of fault. No sacrifice. All well.’_ They were more like suggestions and the longer he just _listened_ to Grillby’s ambient flames, the more they made sense.

_‘Imagine… Accustomed to fire.’_

Flushed again, Sans turned his head away and paid attention to the array of chips and herbs in the pile in front of him. No, that was _definitely_ real. And it had, without a doubt, happened before. He grinned to himself despite feeling awkward and shrugged to nothing in particular, struggling with the bag’s knot.

“kinda had the wind blown outta my sails to find you weren’t home,” he mumbled truthfully. He didn’t look up, but Grillby’s hand gently slid from his arm and rested just hanging over the side of the bed.

Then came the little whispers of heat; _‘………Gave tell…… Message.’_

Sans turned his skull to regard the other and the curious look Grillby had on his vague features. He appeared perplexed, the tiny flames dancing around his exposed body almost languidly whipping in irritation.

“i didn’t get any message,” the skeleton shrugged, suddenly feeling under scrutiny. His soul trembled as he fished into his pocket and brought up the their text messaging history. The last one was Sans asking if Grillby where he was, sent only hours earlier.

A waft of dense steam escaped the fire monster when he sighed. It was harsh and full of effort as he pushed his hand up to retrieve his phone from the nightstand, small flames dropping from his arm as he stretched. Sans could definitely see that Grillby’s form was smaller than before but tried to avoid staring when the other laid back down to check his phone.

A few crackles and a sharp scoffing noise echoed from the other when he let his head drop onto the pillow. A second later, Sans’ phone buzzed.

hot stuff (Last message sent: just now);  
\- A forewarning: Ingrid and Bonnie were concerned and decided to check in. Should you decide to visit after your trip back, I’ll be in room 5F at the Snowed Inn. When I am well, I’ll need to see about checking my window seals. Can’t retain heat for the life of me. Had to scale down to conserve energy. I am in these ladies’ good capable hands. Speak with you soon. ♡

Sans couldn’t help the barking laugh but covered his teeth to stop himself a little too late. Grillby’s flames fizzed and brightened briefly as he covered his face, obviously embarrassed. In his haste to give Sans a heads-up, he had neglected to hit the ‘send’ key.

Despite how Grillby’s embarrassment was endearing, Sans tried to console him as he managed to open a bag of birch chips. “it’s ok, man. i was just wonderin’, is all.” Another shrug, but he saw the way Grillby watched him, his eyes softening at his tone.

_‘…………Distress?’_

The skeleton shrugged again, mostly to himself. He didn’t want to prod the guilt but nor did he want to convey that he wasn’t concerned. Inspecting a larger chip between his bony fingers, he held it out for Grillby.

_‘…………Hide.’_

“it’s all good, bud. a simple mistake.” Sans winked to hint that everything was alright; in several ways, it now was. Sans felt silly for having jumped to such a desolate conclusion, but that was in the past. Grillby was speaking to a degree, he was insulated, heated up, and now it was time for something to eat. “c’mon. think of this as a _light_ lunch.”

Grillby crackled, his smirk widening at the joke. Sans felt his soul flutter again and leaned in closer with the bark chip to offer it to the other’s mouth. He tried not to fixate on how intimate it felt, how his fingertip lightly brushed against Grillby’s chin when the chip was burned away and consumed.

“easy to eat?”

Grillby was watching him, his heat rising as his core flared with the added fuel. His eyes seemed to glow a little brighter and they narrowed when his smile touched them. He gave a gentle nod as his eyes followed the blurred shape in front of him, not seeing much else without his glasses. When Sans’ body moved, his soul fluttered at the loss, only to be given another wood piece.

Every time he was rewarded with care and attention while the skeleton tried to keep his cool, but Grillby felt how the touches lingered even when he was sure the other hadn’t planned on it. He could see the subtle colour of the other’s magic, longed to reach out and feel it rush through his body just as his own had experienced before.

Grillby’s breathing evened out, the added fuel to his fire kicking in hotter as Sans offered him a variety of other pieces. The skeleton kept quietly talking even though he couldn’t hold a conversation no matter how hard he tried. Only vague suggestions were what he could spare, and only when his flames were being cooperative - which was rarely the case, especially when he was ill.

It wouldn’t be long until a couple of the bags were down to mere shreds and Sans got up to check the hearth. He took out the skillet and brought it over, and with Grillby’s added strength, the two of them managed to aid one another to replace the one in the bed.

The flood of heat directly against his core made Grillby sigh in relief as it sizzled away the slag residue of the accumulated moisture his magic had absorbed, sending him to coughing to expel the steam that built up. At least there was no more smoke, and Sans didn’t appear bothered to help him out. In fact, the skeleton seemed as though he was ready to care for him, going even as far to snap and haphazardly chop bits of parscoal for him to eat.

How to build a fire in every literal sense was to feed it. Although Grillby was embarrassed by his state, he lacked the strength to care for himself when he was like this. So when Sans replaced the skillet of glowing coals one more time and covered him in his blanket, his fires licked up higher enough that he couldn’t contain them. They fanned out as his body surged and he exhaled a hot breath all at once, no doubt giving the poor skeleton a start.

“and that..?” Sans inquired carefully.

Grillby shifted, the warmth under him a deep comfort as he released a muted cough of steam. _“………Better,”_ he croaked, voice still hissing noisily.

Sans couldn’t help but grin at that, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as he stooped to crouch beside the bed. “hey, grillbz.”

The fire monster sighed, straining as he turned his head to regard the other. Although he didn’t see the other’s notorious grin, he could hear it in his voice. _“Mhm..?”_

Whatever anxieties Sans had, he managed to hide them well - for lack of a better term, he was warily optimistic when he next spoke. “you an’ me.” It seemed to linger in the air, all too real now that it had been said out loud. “it’s not weird, right?”

Grillby moved so that he was more comfortably laying down, his arm curled up under the hot blanket to wrap up near his chin. His fire was stabilising yet intensifying, despite him feeling groggy and weak. _“Do you… feel it weird?”_

He saw something shuffle and assumed that it was one of Sans’ noncommittal shrugs.

“it’s not really somethin’ we’ve talked about. oddly enough… nah, it doesn’t feel weird. i was just curious how you felt about everything, is all,” the skeleton replied after a moment’s pause.

Grillby understood even in his compromised state. With how everything had happened so suddenly, the escalation between them only seemed too natural. In the easy way they got along and questioned nothing, it _should’ve_ felt strange. Yet it didn’t, and Grillby was pleased with the other’s thoughts that he felt the same way.

 _“Concerned… that it’s a little `fucked`?”_ he teased, covering up a fizzing cough. He saw the vague blur of cyan bloom ever-so-slightly from the other’s chest and felt a fluttering heat at the reaction.

“what did you say?” It almost sounded disbelieving and Grillby’s soul seemed to sigh when Sans propped his arms over the edge of the mattress to look him in the face. This way, Grillby was able to see the amused creases at the corners of his eye sockets and the way his smile seemed to bring genuine joy. “say it again, grillbz.”

The fire monster turned his head, knowing full well what was expected of him and why. He muffled a cough into the pillow and hid his grin, delighted to hear such excitement after so long.

_“What?”_

“c’mon,” the skeleton prodded. Very literally so, Grillby could feel his bony fingertip nudging at his shoulder and neck. A shudder passed through his flames for every deliberate touch. “don’t make me beg.”

Grillby’s body trembled as he restrained his laughter, intent to not give in to the other’s demands. In the end, he chuckled, the sound punctuated by hissing coughs and sputters as a fine steam drifted up from the exposed parts of his body.

 _“Not swearing for your benefit,”_ he managed to gasp, the effort of laughing with Sans’ relentless poking and prodding having quickly sapped him of what little strength he had.

Sans feigned a crushing loss, turning so his back was pressed against the side of the bed. He leaned his skull back and Grillby let out a crackling chuckle occasionally, until he settled.

“really, though?” The seriousness in Sans’ voice was back and Grillby attempted to move again. This time he slung his arm around the other’s shoulder, flooding Sans’ vertebrae with varying pinpricks of heat. He felt the subtle shudder against his arm and cradled his skull with his hand, fingers tracing soothing circles against his cheekbone and jaw.

Although he likely couldn’t see the gesture, Grillby nodded with a soft hum of affirmation, his hold gentle in its embrace. He could distinctly pinpoint the moment when the tension released from Sans’ shoulders and he leaned back, his hands raising to touch Grillby’s arm.

A relieved laugh came from the skeleton then as he took note of the shifting heat that spread into his rib cage.

“still kinda sad you won’t swear for me.”

Grillby scoffed, his embrace suddenly strengthening with a brief flare up. With it came a mischievous grin, not that Sans could see it. The skeleton clung to the other’s arm with a startled exclamation as Grillby wormed his head closer, taking care to keep situated on the coals.

 _“Perhaps… leave it to your expertise,”_ he breathed as he caressed his mouth against the side of Sans’ skull. His hand assumed its natural state as a couple of fingers traced down the other’s jaw, connecting with the first two vertebrae. He relished the way his touch made Sans’ breath hitch and his magic rush against his fingertips. _“You can introduce such colourful poetry to me… for I am sorely lacking. And repeat your favourites to me. Over and over… and over again.”_

Although Sans’ flush didn’t register as heat, he could’ve sworn his face felt hotter than anything he had ever experienced before. He couldn’t help but connect the sultry way that the other spoke so concisely, blatantly hinting at more private and intimate moments when his voice had lowered to that register.

It sent a shiver through him, sparking up his spine with the promise Grillby’s tone had for him. Why did it fire him up so much? Why did his soul respond with such a resounding _thump_ and shiver of anticipation every damn time?

As his phalanges flexed against the other’s arm. His eye lights flicked around the room, to the hearth, his breaths just a little quicker for the intrusive thoughts that passed through his head. A nervous tremble went through him as his grin tightened when Grillby kissed the side of his skull. Then the fire monster gave in and showed mercy with a quiet chuckle, sinking down again to rest.

Even while he was sick, Grillby still had his playful side. And boy, did he know how to turn the tables on him, Sans thought as he rested a hand over his furiously blushing face.

“well, fuck.”

 _“Not now,”_ Grillby returned without missing a beat. Sans was sure he could sense the devilish ideas the other had in store. Even though Grillby was no longer touching him, he _swore_ he could feel lingering caresses against his ribs and femurs from weeks prior. _“A bit put out at the moment…”_

Sans definitely knew there was exhaustion in the other’s voice but couldn’t help himself when he idly stroked the other’s arm, watching as the tiny flames skipped over his fingers and nestled around his carpels.

“raincheck?” He couldn’t help himself, even if it was a joke, it was incredibly forward. But that appeared to be just Grillby’s sort of humour. Sans had to grit his teeth in order to not give in to his laugh, but soon became overwhelmed when the other pulled his arm away and gave his back a surprisingly strong push.

_“You’re horrible..!”_

Sans grinned as he righted himself on the floor, erupting into genuine laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It the boy!!!! Time for more fluff and innuendo. Can Grillby ever turn it off? I guess maybe find out next ~~episode~~ chapter! 8D
> 
> [thefloatingstone/c-puff](https://thefloatingstone.tumblr.com/) has done it again, this time with chapter 33 art [here (sfw!)](https://skerbbie.tumblr.com/post/179278966990/)!! Go check it out! It's hella amazing!!!!! :DDD
> 
> Chapter is longer than usual because I didn't hit a natural end until later. 8D;;;; But then I think most of my chapters are around the 4-6k mark?;;;;;;
> 
> Happy 1st birthday to this fic on the 26th! I can't believe it's been a year already and you have all been so kind to express such interest in my story ;U;!!! It makes me happy to see every kudos, comment and fan art. Even to those that don't comment, thank you! I love you too! ♥ Almost 10k views in one year is nothing to scoff at and I get so emotional for all the support everyone has given me. TTuTT!!!!! I am a blessed skerb!  
> Many more chapters are to come. This is probably psychotic of me to say but the story as it is (roughly outlined in my mind), not even 1/3 way done. (I don't know whether that will scare people off or not. Oh well 8D;;;;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans watches over Grillby while Grillby has a bath. A second attempt at cyclical magic sharing is more successful, thanks to a dream.
> 
> Grillby POV.

Briefly, Sans had to leave in order to get food. The inn only had a few spare snacks for that time of day, and Grillby had urged him to get something ‘substantial’ to eat and not subside solely off pre-packaged crackers and fruit. It was only after Sans helped him replace the coals and ensured that he was tucked in and comfortable, that the skeleton felt he could allow himself to leave. Grillby just gave him a reassuring wave from the bed when he hesitated, and Sans finally did go.

Ingrid had promised to check in on the fire monster while Sans was out and did what she could in order to make him comfortable while keeping a dutiful distance from his strengthening flames. It really seemed like insulation was key to him getting better, even though the entire second floor was sweltering with his presence alongside the fireplace going all throughout the day. Grillby had scaled his body down to conserve energy, no more than a head smaller than usual, but he found that was enough.

Sans returned with some reading material and a few more things to snack on, keeping Grillby company while he napped. Eventually, the fire monster would wake up to find that Sans had fallen asleep hunched over the side of the mattress, his hand resting against Grillby’s arm. It was as though the other had to ensure he was there and wouldn’t disappear even as he was sleeping. Grillby found it touching, in a way.

Yet no matter how much he wanted to get out of bed and get to cleaning his restaurant, Grillby lacked the strength to do so. In fact, the bout of activity and his teasing had exhausted him, coupled with the time of day. He realised that his internal clock would be off-kilter and that it would likely take a week to set right. He wasn’t looking forward to the amount of cleaning the restaurant needed with all the soot and smoke he had expelled during his self-imposed confinement.

As though unable to suppress it, Grillby groaned to himself. It had been nearly a week since he’d fallen ill and it had been his own fault. His mothers would chide him constantly if they were to find out. He supposed it was a good thing that they had sent off the specialty blankets Hotland manufactured for its denizens living in remote places, but telling either of them would only make them infernally smug. His move to Snowdin had been met with resounding disapproval, after all.

He leaned down as he cracked open his eyes to look around. The problem with being bedridden was that boredom was its only reward. And being stuck over a plate of glowing coals really was the pits. Not only did it provide only temporary relief, the heat lingered for at most an hour before it had to be rekindled.

Sans had helped, bless him, but Grillby tired of being bedridden. It would be much simpler to curl up in the fireplace within its flames, until the moisture burned away naturally. That way, it wouldn’t affect his health, his recovery time would be expedited, and he wouldn’t feel the prickling pain of water boiling inside of him, however much was left. The only other thing that would help was to cycle his magic, but no one else apart from Sans was able to touch him for as long as he needed, and the previous attempt had failed so miserably…

He was lucky that Sans was such a deep sleeper; no doubt this would have been difficult to explain. At best, he’d make a joke, but Grillby knew his weakened state worried the skeleton, no matter how much he tried to hide it. He attempted to shift off the skillet under him, his core igniting in protest as the metal lost temperature. While the room was not _as_ hot as he wanted it, Grillby knew where he had to go to relieve the stress on his body without making the others in the inn uncomfortable.

When Sans didn’t move, Grillby tried a little more. The bed barely gave as he put a hand beside him to push, flames falling from his arms and his chest as he sat upright. Grillby took a moment to sense where the most heat was in the room and moved his legs over the side of the bed, taking care not to disturb the blurry shape next to him.

Desperate for heat and seeing the hot glow only a short distance away, the fire monster held back a cough of steam and concentrated his form to solidify at his feet. It had been a few days since he had attempted walking and he felt out of sorts, but this was the only recourse to his situation.

He gravitated towards the fireplace, his footsteps uneven and stumbling. He made no noise apart from the crackle of protest that fluttered through his form. With a relieved sigh, Grillby approached the healthy fire kept as a pet in the hearth, feeling how it bathed him in its glow like a gentle embrace. It livened his own flames, the heat seeping into his tired body like a mother’s loving touch.

It would be rude not to greet it nor even gain permission, so he stared into the glowing fire, a soft hiss coming off from him in waves as he introduced himself and asked for help. Just a little, and it wouldn’t take too much of its resources. He didn’t want to be dependant on it, but he could really use the assistance.

He hummed in gratitude and sat next to it to rest, finding himself uncomfortable with only one side of him being nourished by the foreign blaze. The pet fire was kind and agreed to share its strength and Grillby sighed in relief, sinking against the brick opening. As though testing the fluttering elements, the fire monster then passed his arm into the opening, the soft sizzle of steam erupting from him as what he had absorbed was evaporated away.

It travelled up his arm and around him like a gentle wave, holding him like a fervent yet soft embrace. A smile touched his mouth as he brought his kindled arm across his chest and touched his neck, a satisfaction like no other passing through him when he could hear the water fizz and pop away from him. It lifted in thin auburn masses from the fire monster’s body, filling the room with a dense haze and mist that lingered.

Grillby repeated the process, bringing the foreign flame to his body to heat himself in quiet relief. After, he held a few red-hot coals against his chest until they cooled, then he’d exchange them for more. When he felt strong enough, Grillby shifted closer to the opening to prepare himself to curl into the bed of kindling and coals as though it was the fluffiest, most comfortable place a person could be. He was all too relieved for the blaze to welcome him and help soothe his weary soul as he tucked his legs into the fireplace’s opening.

“uh… i don’t mean to interrupt,” came a voice from a few feet away and Grillby started with the familiar tone. He flushed and turned his head towards where it had come from, a few dampened embers popping off his head as he sat in a half prone position, just ready to lie down on the bed of kindling.

He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want to be caught, but the fact was that he supposed Sans could sleep for only so long. Strange, when at times the bartender would be open all day and night, and Sans could sleep the entire time. Grillby swallowed, his colouring changing to a flummoxed yellow and orange before he sunk down, abashed. It really made him feel better and he could already feel the way the fire surrounded him in its hot and thick blanket.

Grillby attempted to speak, but only a few crackles and fizzed snaps emerged from the fireplace. He camouflaged with the interior and despite how his colouring was not quite as vibrant as the blaze surrounding him, he doubted Sans could see him even with his clothes.

“kinda neat to see a fire monster takin’ a bath,” Sans observed through thinly veiled curiosity.

Grillby felt his core temperature spike in rebuke. Was he really being compared to the uncomfortable notion that other monsters would willingly sink their person into a vessel of water? He made a face - rather, he attempted to, his flames flickering about in a way that called out on their own.

_‘………Disgust…… Horrible. Fail comprehension.’_

Sans chuckled to himself in the way Grillby knew that he had likely misunderstood. He saw his shape get up from the side of the bed, and wished that he had the foresight to grab his glasses when he passed. But instead, he sunk down, inwardly cringing when Sans leaned beside the fireplace with an amused chuckle.

“sorry. you ok?”

Grillby’s soul twinged at the question. While seemingly nonchalant, he’d grown accustomed to how the skeleton would show his concern. Subtle, yet there. Like a gentle breath between them. The fire monster flushed again, but for another reason entirely.

“aw.” Sans snickered, clearly misunderstanding his reaction once again. Grillby sighed as the haze around him worsened his eyesight and he sunk down to curl up in the fireplace. “poor guy.”

Grillby wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but took solace in the knowledge that someone was looking out for him. He lay down, his form spreading unseen as the foreign blaze broiled out what moisture he had accumulated. The stranger definitely helped in healing his ailing flames.

The fire monster breathed in deeply, the air crackling around him like sparks. _‘……Thank you.’_

Sans seemed to perk up with that. It was subtle but it was there, and Grillby had to smile to himself as the other shuffled a little closer. He would keep an eye on him, or at the very least, an eye socket. The silence between them was soothing and the fire monster found himself dozing within the comforts of the blaze, his arm curled around his head as a makeshift pillow. Grillby swallowed what dignity he had left as he resigned himself to sleeping in the fireplace, as he had as a child.

He wasn’t sure for how long he had been sleeping, but Grillby knew immediately when he awoke that he was feeling much better. There was no more prickling pain of water, no absence of heat. In fact, the fire that surrounded him questioned his presence and he bashfully pushed himself upright. He heard the unmistakable sound of paper shifting, like a book, its pages feeling coarse and loud even through the hum of fire around him.

Sans was still by his side and even stayed awake for him. That was endearing. Grillby rubbed at his face, noting how his body was more stable, but his magic had soured so much that he could detect the limestone scent himself. It would pass, but it would take time until his magic was properly circulating again.

Another page turn. Grillby poked his head out from the fireplace and gradually exitted it, sitting on the hearth as he hunched over.

“mornin’. or should i say `evenin’`?” the skeleton greeted casually.

Grillby rubbed over his face, glad the other didn’t mention anything too embarrassing. _“…Time is it?”_ he murmured, his usual crackle masking the start of his sentence. He glowed, feeling weary despite his rest, but turned to regard the other - or at least the best that he was able.

“`bout suppertime.”

 _“I see,”_ the fire monster sighed, exhaling one last breath of steam. He felt much better and even straightened his back, hoping the movement would ease the cramped coils within his flames. _“Could do with something to eat. Did you notify your brother as to where you are..?”_

“i called `im earlier. he’s sendin’ positive vibes your way. are you feelin’ alright?” Not ‘ok’, but alright. That was different. Grillby squinted at the other, an amused smirk touching the corners of his mouth.

_“Better.”_

He saw Sans raise his hand to his skull briefly, but he couldn’t make sense of the movement. He really wished that he had his glasses suddenly. He was missing out on all the nuanced body language and Grillby found that he missed it.

“had a thought earlier,” the skeleton suddenly said. “well, a dream.”

Grillby hummed in interest and blindly set out for the bed in the direction he remembered it being in, clumsily bumping into the side of the frame with a muffled snap of irritation. He could feel Sans’ eye lights on him as he moved, but Grillby forced himself to walk on his own and he appreciated the fact that the other didn’t immediately coddle him.

Instead, the skeleton followed him to his bedside and held something out to him while Grillby pawed around the nightstand for his glasses. “and then i got to thinkin’, `cause of soul stuff, uh…” Grillby could detect the hesitation in his voice and he stopped to turn back to Sans, his body flaring up in muted surprise while at the same time, keeping relatively calm.

His thoughts had been chasing around in circles ever since Sans’ fingertips had grazed over the surface of his soul. His core had been in a weakened state and Grillby had to keep from outright pushing his soul out of hiding and into the other’s hands at the time, it had felt so _right._ The temperature rose in the room when he recalled the intimate touch, yet he kept quiet as though every word Sans spoke next was of extreme importance. And to him, it was.

“i’m, uh… still learnin’ things,” the skeleton continued, waving the thing he was holding out to the fire monster. Grillby swallowed and took it, recognising its shape for his glasses. He immediately settled, placing them on his face to regard the other.

That was much better. He could see the serious yet nonplussed way Sans shrugged into his sweater, the silly phrase on his shirt, the crooked way his grin cocked when his eye lights averted to the side. Grillby sat on the bed and leaned forward, a gentle smile of encouragement touching his eyes.

_“I’m aware.”_

A flush coloured Sans’ face and his grin widened, something that made Grillby extremely pleased by. He remained patient until the other inhaled deeply, as though preparing himself for what was next.

“i dunno if i can. but i kinda wanna try again anyways? some… things got sorted out, at any rate,” the skeleton spoke quickly and idly rubbed at his arm.

Was he really hearing things correctly? Grillby stared at him, his soul pounding furiously at the implications - hell, the _forwardness._ He anticipated that Sans would start to be a little more confident when they started dating, but _this?_ It wasn’t anything he had imagined.

“i mean,” Sans floundered, suddenly sounding unsure of himself. “not that i’d expect you to wanna submit yourself to another rebound. i just-” He shrugged, chancing a glance to the fire monster, then he laughed to himself. “i got excess magic. and you need to cycle yours, right? i figured it’d be a more or less mutual thing, i guess.”

_Oh._

Grillby swallowed again, trying very hard not to betray the sudden flare of embarrassment that passed through his flames. They had been thinking on entirely separate things. Of course, he thought, unable to dim the subtle yet excited popping of embers off his body with the mere notion.

He thought on it once he’d calmed down a little, passing a hand through the flames on his head to help soothe them. Then he looked back to the skeleton and how he appeared a little curious, yet nervous. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing, and hiding it?

Grillby mentally chastised himself; there was no sense on lingering on such a thing if they were at two different stages in their relationship. Realising that he hadn’t said anything to Sans’ proposition, the fire monster nodded in acceptance. He saw Sans visibly relax, as though being rejected was a much bigger deal than it was at first glance.

When the other joined him on the bed, Grillby realised that was precisely it. He figured that on some level, Sans was likely to suspect that he would be treated differently, no matter how many times Grillby had assured him that was not the case. It was an unspoken fear, but Grillby would be patient with him. It would only put Sans on the defensive if he brought it up then.

The other’s left hand found his right, a dusting of beautiful cyan flushing Sans’ face when the fire monster couldn’t help but give him a cheeky grin while their fingers entwined. He could see the subtle way the skeleton’s chest heaved with each magical pulse, the subtle light within his rib cage evident now that they were closer together. It flickered at first, then settled into a deep glow.

Grillby’s smile widened when Sans awkwardly laughed to himself. He was always on the defensive, but occasionally he would relax just enough to realise it himself. Then, Sans would snicker as if it were an unspoken joke. It was sweet, in a way.

Grillby held up his left hand to grasp the other’s right - the ‘dead’ side, he noted. If he was entirely honest with himself, the fire monster still wasn’t sure how to process the way the connection had abruptly severed before. It had left him confused and disoriented and when he had come to, Sans was clinging tightly to him in such an emotionally raw state.

And now, Sans folded the book behind him with his free hand, looking nervous as he shrugged out of the right side of his hoodie. He then took Grillby’s offered hand, but not in the way they had held them before. Instead, he pulled the arm towards himself and cupped his fingers over Grillby’s hand, firmly pressed against his right shoulder and poking beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Grillby gave him a puzzled look and with it, Sans seemed to exude insecurity. It took him a great deal longer to finally mumble, as though in shame, “my `rent used to do this.” The fire monster could see the way the other’s eye lights faded briefly before coming back into focus, and then Sans squeezed his hand. It was subtle, but Grillby figured the connection meant a lot more to Sans than he ever would admit. It was also likely that his parent was no longer around, sadly, and the memory made the other sore.

“i’ll start the rotation. when it’s your turn, push your side of the connection-” Sans adjusted his grip so that Grillby’s fingers grazed over the surface beneath his shirt, a tight collection of pebbly-feeling bones marking his shoulder’s socket. “-here. hopefully it’ll work.” His grin tightened as his eye lights settled on him, then they drifted down to Grillby’s chest. Then just as quickly, they veered off to the side.

 _Aha._ So he _was_ thinking about it.

Deciding it was a little too intimate to tease about, Grillby leaned forward to get closer. Sans immediately tensed, his eye lights searching out what had sprung this on, just as Grillby pressed a kiss against his skull.

“man. what the heck.”

 _“You care for me,”_ Grillby couldn’t help the tease. _“…Appreciate all your efforts. Truly.”_

Sans gave him a half-cocked grin with an accompanying wink. Grillby could feel the way the hand in his own squeezed reflexively. “yeah, you’re feelin’ better…” he muttered shyly, brushing off the gratitude.

 _“…Makes all the difference in the world,”_ Grillby noted gently as he felt the peculiar tingling ebb into his hand from Sans, _“when one has someone that wants you to be well.”_

Sans remained quiet but his grin was genuine. “the restaurant’s closed but you’re still servin’ up grilled cheese,” he joked quietly.

Grillby couldn’t help but roll his eyes, amused. He felt the other’s magic seep into his flames and travel up his right arm, it creating little shocks much differently than before. Sans definitely had more to spare this time, but it was unpractised and uneven, like pouring the contents of a heavy jug into a small cup. A lot of it spilled off Grillby’s arm and he grunted in surprise, causing the other to glance to his face in concern.

_“A… bit too much. Steadier.”_

Sans gritted his teeth and settled his gaze just below Grillby’s face, his brow bone furrowing a little in concentration. The flames coiled and fluttered as the foreign magic entered Grillby’s body, confused at first but then firing up hotter as it pulsed unseen up and down the surface of his form. It made Grillby’s breath catch as another spurt of magic gushed along his arm, causing a sudden spike in fuel as his body flared in shock.

_“E… Easy.”_

“m’tryin’,” the skeleton muttered apologetically. His hand flexed against Grillby’s fingers and his breath picked up a little.

Soon the magic Sans gave him flooded Grillby’s entire being, igniting his core and stoking his fire. The room became a little hotter as he hummed contentedly, the fluttering of his flames glowing against the shimmery wallpaper in the room.

He allowed it to linger within him for a moment longer before he hesitated, his thumb idly stroking Sans’ shoulder in preparation. The other’s right arm lay idle by his side, his phalanges playing with the toggle of his hoodie’s zipper. His eye lights were averted but he appeared absorbed in concentration as his magic bursted after flowing leniently for a little while.

It tugged at a suspicion that Grillby had for awhile, but it was too far fetched to even entertain. There were a great many things Sans admitted to not having done, citing neglect or disinterest. It wasn’t because of Bonnie’s suspicions that he was younger than he really let on.

Grillby put the thought from his head and collected the accumulated magic within him, ready to return it. With the other feeding him a constant yet unstable source, in theory they should be able to cycle through a few times. That is… if Sans’ idea was sound.

He had no reason to doubt him, so the fire monster gently pushed his magic to the socket of the other’s arm, causing Sans to jerk his skull up sharply in surprise. Grillby gave him an excusing look but watched carefully, his magic pouring out at an even rate as he’d learned years ago. He felt the way Sans melted with the sensation it brought on, how his body leaned towards the touch.

“neat,” the other observed, his breaths deep. His excitement shone through, perhaps Grillby even detected a hint of relief?

The fire monster had to smile at that, leaning forward as Sans did as the hue of his magic shone a soft amber along the other’s collar bones and vertebrae to mix with his own magic. Perhaps there was doubt behind the other’s hesitancy, but Sans seemed to exude an acceptance beyond any measure that Grillby had ever seen in him before. The fire monster’s eyes followed the reactions as his magic slipped into places unseen, how Sans’ body gently jolted with the sensations and his breaths caught.

 _“Be sure to maintain the connection,”_ Grillby reminded him kindly when he realised that the skeleton’s magical feed was beginning to wane.

As though snapped out of a momentary daze, Sans straightened. With the motion, there was another overcompensating spurt of energy. Grillby instinctively squeezed the other’s hand with a startled gasp, his vision dotting with tiny pinpoints of white with the surge.

“woops. sorry.”

The flow of energy lessened a little, soft flecks of gold and white embers falling between them with brief flashes of fuschia and cyan. Grillby steadied his breathing, realising that his core was hotter than it had been before, generating heat from the constant torrent of magic between them. His soul was fluttering but he silently pled for it to calm down, his eyes settling on their clasped hands and noting how his flames were paler than his previous sickly hues.

As the connection stabilised, so too did Grillby’s vision. He watched the other’s dreamy look and how a silent chuckle shook the skeleton’s frame from time to time. He fed his share of magic back to Sans, the light between them a beautiful symphony of cycling magic, like the essence of a whirling pool of energy.

He couldn’t believe anyone would have the intent to harm such a person. Someone that had kept relatively to himself, who wanted no more than to have a pleasant afternoon to himself with no hullabaloo to fret over. Who kept his own demons, but sincerely tried to keep up others’ spirits with bad jokes and silly pranks.

Grillby dwelled on how frantic the other had been, how angry and scared. There had been true fear and coupled with the lingering aura of malintent on the other, Grillby had come to the conclusion that he had to investigate on his own time. Since Sans had told him not to report anything (which coincidentally meant telling a certain skeleton whom would then tell a fish lady), it left the bartender at relative unease with the whole proposition.

Was Sans so sure that he was the only target, that he would allow the incident to be glossed over and forgotten? Was Papyrus really alright with such an outcome? It was a tentative fear, but one the fire monster had to put away for the moment, despite how the worry lingered in his chest.

He had to focus on the little tells Sans would show when he was hiding something. Perhaps Grillby could glean some sort of information from him. If it had been Papyrus’ friend, as was mentioned, perhaps Grillby could persuade them into some form of camaraderie? Gain the true insight as to why he had interfered with Sans’ work?

Grillby’s thoughts wandered to the present. He thought he could feel the beat of the other’s soul through the connection, but Grillby had never heard of it happening before, so he dismissed the notion. Instead, he focused on the subtle hum of energy shared, just before Sans spoke.

“uh, you doin’ ok there, chief?”

Grillby watched the other and noted how he now appeared to have shifted slightly, as though agitated. Carefully, he nodded, burying his true expression under fire now that he was able to. Sans shot him an awkward grin and looked away. Then his discomfort seemed to increase when his eye lights settled on the door.

It was then that Grillby recognised the shift in the air. It was an unwelcome dip in temperature, but one that happened every time the door was opened. He was a guest at the inn, after all, and it was only to be expected when Bonnie or Ingrid had charged themselves with his care.

Gradually, he felt Sans’ magical feed into his hand and down his arm stutter to a dull throb with the intrusive, “Oh, `lo there! Everyone’s lookin’ lively now!”

Grillby made sure to hold onto the other’s shoulder tightly when Sans tried to jerk away, but their hands nearly parted with the start. He could see the veiled panic in Sans’ expression as Ingrid’s voice singsonged gentle teases. With her presence was the sweet smell of freshly baked bread, butter and yams, sweet corn and pepper - dinner. Grillby wasn’t feeling the most robust, but he would certainly do with something a bit more substantial than wood pieces and coal.

His flames crackled in protest as Sans attempted to withdraw his hand again, clearly agitated. Grillby was still feeding his share of magic back to the other, and until it was completed, they risked another disruption if the connection was severed too soon.

 _‘……Patience,’_ came the whisper of fire. It licked off from his forearms and through his fingers to flood against the other’s bones, sinking in with a comfortable and familiar heat. Grillby sighed when Sans relaxed a little, staying quiet. It was peculiar, but he didn’t appear distressed.

He wondered why that was? Had it been due to Ingrid walking in on them like this? It wasn’t something to be ashamed of. Monsters well-known to each other did it. It was done familially. There wasn’t anything inherently scandalous about it…

Unless Sans thought it this way. The fire monster knew Sans was something of a private person, but he wasn’t quite sure how to soothe the ache in this regard.

Grillby’s eyes settled upon Sans’ right hand on the bed, holding the corner of his hoodie, scrunching it in his fist. His body had begun to tremble and his eye lights faded out after averting them from their visitor. His grin was tight and fixed like a grimace, and magic that had been throbbing from his arm made Grillby feel anxious in turn.

He understood. This was about being ‘discovered’, so Grillby carefully ended the cyclical nurturing in favour of food. Sans’ eye lights reappeared as he watched him let go of his shoulder and the fire monster brought Sans’ hand towards him, settling it over Grillby’s chest to the intense heat with a silent ‘thank you’ just for him.

Whether Sans had been speechless because of it or not, Grillby didn’t receive a reply. They only shuffled so there was a bit of space between them on the bed and Ingrid approached them with loaded trays of food. Grillby swapped the soup for Sans’ bread as he didn’t have the energy enough to burn through any more liquid, but he earned a knowing wink from the skeleton.

Really, he had to figure out just what had happened for Sans to be attacked when he ignited the dimensional box. It was too important to let slide, even if Sans seemed to be doing just that. He ruminated over it as the skeleton stole a couple of bread slices from the tray and held them on each side of his face. He started as his heat crisped the bread, halting the worried thoughts as Sans laughed.

“thanks, man. been cravin’ something with your personal touch.”

Grillby held back the resounding flush and spike of heat at that. Really, did Sans not realise what he was saying half the time? The fire monster watched as Sans turned away to bite one of the pieces of toast. He was blushing. No, it was obvious that he knew.

Somehow, that flustered Grillby more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It my birthday tomorrow (Nov 3), so have a chapter!
> 
> Gotta remember that even though this is a more... realistic(?) take on the UT classic universe, everyone still has their silly little goofy things that they do.
> 
> Grillby is wanting to search for his own answers...


End file.
